


Of Logic

by KWtrust



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Malfoy, Malfoy Manor, Muggle Culture, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Potions, The Order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 133,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11803731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KWtrust/pseuds/KWtrust
Summary: After realizing that Malfoy is in fact, an intelligent student, Hermione is determined to figure out how he could believe such baseless claims as this blood purity nonsense. Both come away with a better understanding of the world, and maybe a little bit more than they bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

"Look at this" Harry said suddenly, making Hermione jump. She had been absorbed in the History of Magic essay she was writing. Although it wasn't due for another week she was already almost done. She liked to be prepared, and besides, she knew she would need to spend the time right before the essay was actually due helping Harry and Ron finish theirs. Harry had moved over to sit next to her and pushed the Marauder's Map on top of the unfinished essay. Ron, eager for a distraction from his own work moved over to her other side to look as well.

"What exactly are we supposed to be seeing?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She could hear the excitement in his though, and knew there would be no escape back to her essay until Harry had told her his latest theory.

Probably more "evidence" that Draco Malfoy had become a fully-fledged death eater. Although she had no doubt that would happen at some point, she really didn't see how Harry could think Voldemort would allow someone so young and untrained into his ranks. Voldemort seemed to be all about power and perception, and having a sixteen-year-old as one of the 'elite' didn't exactly encourage confidence in his judgment - or in the movement itself. She had, of course, told all of this to Harry, but nothing seemed to dampen his belief. He simply became more determined to prove to her and Ron that he was right.

"Well, he's gone now." Harry said gesturing to the map. "But I finally figured it out! I figured out where he is going!"

She had been right. Malfoy again. This obsession was getting a little tiresome. What she wouldn't give to have a Malfoy free conversation. She was curious too, of course. But Harry didn't seem to think about anything else lately. Except maybe quidditch.

"You will never believe it!" Harry gestured again, this time more roughly, to a spot on the map. "He knows about the Room of Requirement! I saw him, he used it on purpose. He stood in front of it, stopped, and then paced back and forth three times. There is no way that was an accident! And then he disappeared from the map!"

Though certainly not proof of his Death Eater status, it was at least new information. "And?" Hermione asked slowly, curious as to how exactly Harry was going to tie the new information into his theories.

"Why would he need to use the Room of Requirement if he wasn't doing something he's not supposed to?" Harry said this like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Hermione saw with a slight amount of worry that Ron was starting to look excited as well.

These two, she thought, just can't handle a quiet life, can they? She wondered briefly how they would react once the war was indeed over. Rolling her eyes slightly Hermione set about attempting to put them straight.

"One," She said holding out a finger "using the room or requirement doesn't mean you are doing something wrong, didn't you tell me Dumbledore used it as a loo once? And two," She continued before either one of them could interrupt, counting on a second finger, "Even if he is using it for something bad, that doesn't mean he is a Death Eater. He has been doing everything he can to get around school rules since he got here." Similar to you two. She thought this part to herself, as Harry and Ron certainly would not take kindly to being compared to their nemesis. "and even you can't think he has been a Death Eater since he was eleven."

Seeing her friends deflate slowly wasn't exactly pleasant - she didn't like to always be the buzz kill - she just needed to make sure they didn't get entirely carried away. They had way too much Gryffindor in them to think carefully when they thought they could catch a bad guy. Especially if that bad guy was someone they hated as much as Malfoy.

"Look Harry" she said in an attempt to console him "You know I don't think Malfoy is a Death Eater - Ron doesn't either" she added shooting him a glare for being so eager to switch sides on her "if you can find some proof, I will believe you, but, really, this is probably just Malfoy being Malfoy. I don't really think there is more to it than that. And you really should be working on the potions essay due tomorrow, not stalking Malfoy on that silly map."

It looked like Harry didn't have much to say to that. This was a conversation they had had countless times over the last month, since the beginning of the school year.

She heard Harry mutter, "this map isn't silly."  grumpily as he walked back to his chair.

Hermione smiled at him, with an exaggerated eye-roll, "of course not. But it would be pretty silly to not finish an essay you've had over a week to work on. Besides, if you want me to read it over before you turn it in you have to give me a little time to do so."

Harry hesitated for a second then sheepishly returned her grin, folding up the map and pulling out his half done essay. Looking over at Ron, who was considerably less than halfway done with his essay Hermione said, "That goes for you too, I can't be sacrificing my sleep just because you two like to procrastinate."

Ron gave a half smile as he sighed, looking back down at his paper, "Ok Hermione, whatever you say."

Later that night as she crawled into bed Hermione's mind was more distracted than usual. Surprisingly, both Ron and Harry had finished their essays at a respectable time, and Hermione had left them to fix the mistakes she had found. Now Hermione's mind kept returning not to her own essay (as was often the case when she tried to sleep), but to Malfoy and the Room of Requirement. She had not wanted to encourage Harry and Ron of course, but it was interesting that Malfoy was using the room. Well, not that he was using it, but more that he had found out about it.

They had only found out about it because of Dobby and she doubted that Malfoy would ever stoop so low as to ask a house-elf for help. Even Dumbledore didn't know the true nature of the room. How could someone like Malfoy? She knew it wasn't in any books she had read, and she doubted whether anyone had read even half as many as she had. She also doubted whether any students explored the castle as much as her, Ron, and Harry had. Besides Fred and George of course. But they didn't know about the room either - even the Marauders hadn't known about it.

Although she knew about the room as well, Hermione couldn’t help but be annoyed by the fact that Malfoy had somehow discovered it on his own while she had been told by Harry.

Draco Malfoy figuring out something she hadn't was... an irritating thought, and kept her awake for longer than she cared to admit.


	2. Chapter

A few days later at breakfast, it was clear that Hermione was not the only one who had not been able to get Malfoy and the Room of Requirement out of their head. Despite the resigned look Harry had given her the other night, he had come to breakfast with a plan.

"Look, Hermione, you said yourself if I could find proof you would believe me, how else am I going to get proof?"

Cursing herself for her choice of words Hermione shook her head. She looked up at him skeptically, "And you can't manage to find a way to get proof without risking expulsion?"

"Awe, Hermione, it's not that bad." Ron, of course, had quickly latched onto the half-cocked plan of Harry's "You know that Harry would never be kicked out. And neither would we for that matter." He lowered his voice conspiratorially to a half-whisper even though no one else was around "We are basically part of the Order for Merlin's sake - what are they going to do, send us back to headquarters?"

Although she hated to admit it, he had a point. Harry was untouchable and, as his friends, they pretty much were too. But that didn't mean they could just go around breaking rules whenever they felt like it! She turned to her friends about to say as much when Harry, clearly knowing what she was going to say, interrupted her.

"Hermione. You know we are going to do it. And we know you won't rat us out. But you don't have to come if you don't want to."

It was a horrible, horrible plan. And she hated Harry for manipulating her like this, he could be such a Slytherin sometimes. But there was no way she would let them do this on their own. He knew she wouldn't, and so she just shook her head and adopted her most annoyed look.

The grin Harry and Ron shared was almost enough to make her scream, though when they looked back at her they seemed to realize this, and both of them hastily began eating the food in front of them, determinedly not looking up. Hermione just sat nibbling on her bacon, trying not to worry too much.

At the beginning of the year feast, Dumbledore had told the students how much extra protection there would be around the castle. Some of it they knew, like members of the order patrolling the corridors, but she was sure there was more to it than that, more that they didn’t know. And Harry wanted to go out - after curfew - and just stand around in front of the Room of Requirement waiting for Malfoy to show up. Harry was sure they wouldn't be caught, as Malfoy never seemed to be. But, walking into a room where he was effectively hidden for hours was a lot different than the three of them standing in the corridors for hours out in the open. Even with the cloak they still made sounds, and they were still solid. Not to mention the fact that, with how much bigger they were now, standing in a way to keep them hidden for so long would be terribly uncomfortable. One wrong move and, well, Ron was right, they probably wouldn't be expelled, but she didn't exactly relish the idea of being caught, regardless.

But, she had to go. Harry and Ron were too hot headed on their own. Besides, who knew what else was protecting the castle, the possibilities were endless and frankly, she was the best at spells, even if this wasn't exactly how she preferred to use them. And, although they would probably deserve it, she didn't want her two best friends in trouble.

Later that night found the three friends waiting anxiously in the common room that night. They had snuck out before many times before, but not quite so soon after curfew, and they knew the common room was not going to be empty in time. So, right on schedule, Harry let out a loud yawn, shooting a look at Ron. "Well Hermione, I think we will be off to bed now."

"Ya," Ron added his own overly large yawn. "I'm beat."

Hermione shook her head at their poor acting, but didn't think anybody would notice, or really care for that matter. As they trumped up the stairs, making much more noise than they normally would have done, Hermione slowly started putting her books away. Dropping them off in her dorm she quickly went back to the common room with the pretense of relaxing by the fireplace.

Her pulse was fast, and she was nervous. No matter how many times she did it, breaking the rules made her unaccountably anxious. She was, at her core, someone who liked order. Flouting that by sneaking out was not something that came naturally for her. Crossing her legs in the overstuffed arm chair she bounced one leg up and down quickly as she waited.

Hermione almost jumped at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder only a few moments later, even though she had been expecting it. She looked to her side, but of course, couldn't see anything. Harry and Ron were under the cloak, and she was to be the one to walk calmly out the portrait hole, visible to all, breaking curfew.

Oh, why had she agreed to this?

She swallowed and tried to walk as naturally as she could across the room. They had reasoned that she would be the least likely to be asked any questions, she was a prefect after all. Although that did not make her immune to curfew, it did make it less suspicious. Or, so Harry and Ron had decided over dinner.

"Hermione, it's pretty late to be leaving, doing anything fun?" Ginny looked at her with a teasing smile, reminiscent of Fred and George.

Oh hell. Hermione hadn't noticed her sitting in the corner with her friends, but Ginny had effectively drawn everyone's attention to Hermione's attempt to leave unnoticed. Cursing herself for the millionth time for agreeing to this ‘plan’ she quickly tried to think about what they had said before. Why was she the one exposed like this? Oh, oh right.

"P -prefect business." She damn near squeaked, feeling a small blush working its way onto her face. Apparently, she didn't quite have the upper hand on the whole acting thing.

Clearing her throat she said more clearly "I just have some prefect business, nothing important."

Ginny probably knew she was lying, but she also knew better than to ask what was really going on in front of the whole common room, and merely shrugged and turned back to her friends after raising an eyebrow at her. Thank Merlin Ginny knew how to be discrete, that had certainly come from growing up with the twins. But Hermione knew there would likely be questioning once there was not an audience.

Oh well - now was not the time to think about that. Turning she bent down, crawling through the portrait hole, and holding it open longer than was actually necessary, so Harry and Ron could scramble through behind her.

"Hermione, you are a terrible liar, you know that right?" Even though she couldn't see him, Hermione knew from Ron's tone he was fighting not to laugh. He always seemed to get too much enjoyment out of it when she did something poorly.

"Oh, and like you are any better?" She shot back, knowing she shouldn't, but not able to let it stand. "Who knows what people think you and Harry went up to the dorms to do, but I promise, no one bought the fake yawns and stomping on the stairs." She said this with a smirk to herself, not knowing if they would get the innuendo (they often didn't) but enjoying it none the less.

"Hey!" The embarrassment in his voice made it clear that Ron actually had caught on that time, but Harry interrupted before he could go any further.

"Shut up, both of you, and get under the cloak Hermione, we don't want to miss him." Harry was right, she certainly didn't want all of this to be for nothing.

"I should have just been under the cloak from the beginning" She was still a touch embarrassed at her poor reaction in the common room and couldn't quite let it go.

"Yes, Hermione, and then you could have tried to explain why the portrait hole was opening of its own accord." The sarcasm was clear, but Ron's statement effectively shut her up. Of course she knew she couldn't actually have started out in the cloak, she had meant to imply that one of them should have been the one to have to openly break curfew, but, she was under the cloak now, and Harry's tense glance at her as she was about to say just that reminded her that they were now  _actually_  breaking the curfew, and probably should be a little quieter.

She gave Harry a small nod. Tonight was just not her night. She seriously hoped this little stumble would not be indicative of how the rest of their hair-brained scheme would turn out. Harry pulled out the map and paused, staring at it intently. "Ok, I can't find him, he must be in the room already, let's go."

There were a few close calls on the way to the third floor but with the map, they managed to avoid any members of the Order or professors patrolling the halls quite effectively. It seemed almost too easy as they stood in front of the Room of Requirement. They had made it in record time considering they had to walk almost on top of each other, crouched in half in order to remain covered.

"Now we wait." Hermione's voice was barely a whisper.

Hermione had been right. Not that this was an uncommon occurrence, but in this case, she wished she hadn't been. All three of them standing under the cloak was not just uncomfortable; it was beginning to be unbearable. They had only been here for thirty minutes and Hermione's back, legs, and neck were all aching horribly. She could tell by Harry and Ron's pained expressions that they were experiencing the same thing, maybe even worse as they were both taller than her.

Her pained eyes met Harry's and he sighed, "Look, we have the map, we can tell if anyone is coming, I'm getting out."

Before she could protest he straightened, and stepped out of the cloak, rolling his shoulders with a groan. Caution told her how stupid it was to take the risk, but her discomfort won out and she too took a step forward to straighten as well, lifting her hands over her head to stretch. Man, that felt good. Ron, clearly not wanting to seem like he was hogging the protection of the cloak for himself, took it off and slung it over his arm, twisting to get the kinks out of his own back. They all looked at each other, smiling slightly at their shared decision, and leaned back against the wall. Much more comfortable. And really, they did have the map, they would be fine. The three of them settled in for the rest of their wait.

About an hour later, just Hermione was starting to doze off when Harry jumped up, yanking the cloak from the ground where Ron had put it and tried to fling it over all three of them at the same time. Seeing Harry's frantic movement Hermione jumped towards him as fast as she could. Unfortunately, Ron had the same idea, and Harry had been moving to get closer to them, all at the same time. This ended in a rather painful jumble of heads, elbows, and shoulders being hit and bumped together, not to mention feet being stepped on. Somehow they managed not to cry out. Hermione waited with bated breath to see what Harry had been alerted to.

The three of them all froze, holding their breath, while Flitwick strolled past humming quietly to himself. Waiting until he turned the corner, Harry carefully pulled out the map while trying to remain under the cloak. There was no one else near, and Hermione let out the breath she had been holding at the same time as the other two.

Despite the near miss, or maybe because of it, she was having a hard time not laughing at the way they had all run into each other in their rush. One look at Ron told her he was fighting a similar battle. Harry snorted, looking at both of them with wide eyes, shocked at his own laugh. Hermione was shaking with her own silent laughter, tears welling up in her eyes trying to hold it in. Ron's face looked rather like he was going to burst, quickly turning an interesting shade of tomato red. Not daring to even look at Harry, Hermione covered her face with her hands, but it didn't last, she couldn't help it, she started laughing out loud. The fact that she broke her composure seemed to be the last straw as Harry and Ron both burst out laughing too. They all looked at each other, shocked, and laughed even harder, none of them could seem to stop.

Then, suddenly, Hermione saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye. Freezing mid laugh - and causing Harry and Ron to do the same, she slowly turned her head to where she thought she had seen something.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could they have been so stupid?

First taking off the cloak, then laughing like that. She was sure half the castle had heard them. Stupid stupid stupid. Trying to find what had caused the movement Hermione squinted into the shadowy corridor, but it was Harry that found it, and he pointed silently. Where there had been a smooth stone wall there was now the faint pattern of a door quickly forming. Malfoy was about to leave the Room of Requirement.

Slowly sneaking as close as they could all three of them held their breath for the second time that night. The plan was to wait for Malfoy to exit, and then catch the door as he walked away. It should work. That's how Umbridge had been able to get the list of DA members. They just had to be quick. And silent. The last thing she wanted was to be found by Malfoy before they found out what he was doing.

Malfoy seemed to be taking a long time to open the door, but perhaps he had heard them laughing. Stupid. Eventually, the door opened slowly, and she could see Malfoy peaking his head out. It was odd seeing Malfoy be cautious, usually, he was so bold and arrogant in his movements. Finally, he took a few steps into the corridor. He hadn't opened the door very far, just enough to slide out. They wouldn't make it in time.

Harry seemed to realize this as well. Jumping to the door, he left the safety of the cloak as he went. Harry wasn't just trying to hold the door, it was clear he was actually going to go inside the room in order to hide. Hermione was secretly impressed with his forethought.

Unfortunately, Ron did not see that Harry planned to hide again and so he tried to hurry forward to cover Harry with the cloak that he and Hermione were still wearing.

Damn it, Ron.

Hermione barely had time to think the thought as Ron, in his haste pulled Hermione down to the floor.

"Umph!" She landed with a loud thump on all fours.

Malfoy spun on his heel and without hesitation shot a curse directly at her. Harry sent up a shield and quickly shot a curse of his own at Malfoy. Hermione scrambled to her feet angry at being caught in such a position, and thankful for Harry's quick thinking. Drawing her own wand she saw Ron appear from under the cloak with his wand drawn as well. Malfoy's eyes narrowed, as though calculating his odds. Suddenly flicking his wand he conjured a thick screen of white smoke in the hallway and turned to run the other direction. Hermione could not blame him. Three on one was hardly a challenge she would want to take. But before he could make it more than a couple steps a hard clear voice behind them yelled "Freeze." and the smoke quickly dissipated.

The voice did not bear being ignored. Neither did the witch it had come from. Professor McGonagall.

Shite.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

McGonagall stood still, slowly taking in the scene.

"Four students out of bed," The anger was clear in her voice. "and three of them from my own house."

Dread was settling in Hermione's stomach.

"Dueling by the looks of it."

Hermione shot a quick look around. It did indeed look bad. Ron still had his wand up at chest height. He had turned to face McGonagall though, so now it almost looked like he was about to curse her. Hermione tried to get his attention, but he seemed frozen in place. Harry hadn't lowered his wand either - though it at least was still pointed a Malfoy. If that was any better. 

She slowly turned back to McGonagall, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"Follow me." The professor's voice was clipped, and not one of them even considered disobeying.


	3. Chapter 3

Standing in front of the large desk in her office McGonagall simply looked at the four of them, lips pursed so tightly they were almost invisible. Hermione felt her face burning with guilt and embarrassment. There was a reason they had rules, she knew this. Why did she keep ignoring that? Whatever punishment they got, she knew they would deserve it.

Finally, Professor McGonagall spoke, "I cannot express how disappointed I am in all of you. You all know the dangers we face. You know the trouble that everyone is going through to keep you safe. And yet, here you are. Again..." Hermione realized the professor looked tired, though no less dangerous for it.

"You have all been here before. For exactly the same reason as you are here now. It would seem the previous punishment was not severe enough if you are still so willing to flout the rules."

Hermione could see Harry, Ron, and even Malfoy's face drain of color, and was sure hers was doing the same. Last time they had lost 50 points each and had gotten detention.

"I am left with no choice. 100 points each."

Hermione heard Ron gasp next to her.

"I don't like it any more than you do Weasley." and it sounded like she really meant it "but what else can I do? You four seem determined to break the rules. In addition to the points, you will all have detention every night for a month." Hermione felt the others stiffen beside her.

"Lastly,"

There was more?

"You three," she said indicating Ron, Harry, and Malfoy "will be suspended from your first quidditch matches. And you Ms. Granger, are suspended from your position of prefect until such time as they are able to play quidditch again."

It seemed all of them were too stunned to speak. No one even tried to protest, they couldn't believe what she had just said. "Malfoy, I will confirm your punishment with Snape, but do not expect it to change, I am quite sure he will agree with me on this."

She paused and looked them over sadly, with a sigh that belied more than just annoyance.

"All of you know the very real danger that exists in our world right now. My job is to protect you. Because whether you feel like you need protection or not" at this she glanced at Malfoy "let me assure you, you do. You may feel like you know what is going on. And I do not doubt that you know more than others and likely more than you should. But clearly, you do not realize the extent of the danger. If you do not value your own safety I must take away the things I know you do value."

With that, they were dismissed.

Hermione felt like she wasn't really there. Her body functioning without conscious thought as they made their way back to the common room and into their beds. Not one word had been spoken. They hadn't even looked at each other, all of them lost in their own thoughts. Hermione hated that she had lost so many points for her house but didn't have nearly as much invested in winning the house cup as the others did. And as far as losing friends because of it, Harry and Ron were in this with her, and they were her only friends really.

No, what she cared about was her suspension. He had been so proud when she got her prefect badge. And her parents had been proud too. They tried so hard to understand her new life, and this was something that they could connect over, this was something they could share, that they understood. Hermione's letters to them always talked about her duties and responsibilities as prefect.

But, that also meant they would understand what it meant to have it taken away. She was crushed, and so disappointed in herself. Briefly, Hermione was angry with Harry and Ron, but she knew that she had made her own choices. Stupid Gryffindor. As much as she hated to admit it sometimes, the sorting hat had been right to put here and not Ravenclaw. Even if it was only her curiosity that ever brought out that unthinking bravery, it was still there.

Hermione laid on her bed quietly trying not to wake anyone else up, but, she couldn't sleep. The longer she laid there the more she thought, the more she thought, the worse she felt. Finally giving it up for a bad cause she quietly cast a silencing charm around her bed and gave into the sobs she had been trying to hold back. She was suspended from her position as prefect. She felt guilty about the points she had helped lose. She had failed. She knew it, and come morning, everyone else would too.

The next week was about as horrible as she had imagined. Her, Harry, and Ron were shunned to a degree she hadn't thought possible. The space they were given at their table in the great hall was so wide that everyone else had to sit squished together. Not that anyone seemed to mind. Everyone was united in their hatred of the three of them. Cups of pumpkin juice seemed to spill with unnatural regularity whenever Hermione, Ron, or Harry set one down. They also seemed to be incredibly clumsy lately. Hermione knew people were casting tipping jinxes on them, but frankly, she didn't mind. She knew they deserved the ire directed at them. She was honestly quite glad it wasn't worse.

As usual, McGonagall had waited to send them their detention assignment. It was almost as though she wanted to spread out the pain as much as possible. They had all been given separate assignments. It seemed with the extra patrolling the teachers were getting behind on their other work. Ron and Harry had both been given tasks of cleaning various pieces of equipment for different professors - without the use of magic of course. Hermione would be grading homework for students in the lower years. She supposed this wouldn't be too bad, but doing it for a month straight was sure to get tedious, and it would take a considerable amount of time away from her own work. 

Hermione sighed and looked up at Ron and Harry. Both of them seemed fittingly depressed. None of them had felt much like talking since they had been caught, but Hermione was sure they thought they got the worse end of the deal by being banned from quidditch. It certainly didn't make them any more popular with the rest of the house but, Hermione secretly thought it probably hadn't hurt them as personally as her suspension from prefect duties had.

Two days later Hermione was waiting patiently outside of the Arithmancy classroom waiting for professor McGonagall to get there so that her detention could start. It made sense that she would be grading papers, and though it shouldn't, it did make her a little proud that they had chosen her for this punishment. It meant that even though they were disappointed in her they still knew she was capable. Hermione leaned back against the wall behind her briefly closing her eyes. A few seconds later she heard footsteps and turned to great the professor. Putting her best smile on - though not too big she reminded herself, this was a punishment - she waited for the footsteps to turn the corner.

The "Hello professor" was almost out of her mouth before she realized it was not the professor at all, but Malfoy. Having paused halfway through her greeting she realized what she had actually done was give Malfoy a very hearty and cheerful "Hello!" and he was looking appropriately confused. She flushed, but before she could explain herself he scoffed and walked past her into the classroom.

Annoyed she followed him in. She felt it was polite to wait for the professor to let her in, but there was no way she was going to wait outside after Malfoy had gone in.

"What are you doing here?" She asked although she was afraid she already knew the answer. He looked at her as though the question itself was below him. He seemed to decide, however, that condescension was better than just ignoring her.

"Really Granger? What am I doing here?" He almost spat her name out, as though just saying it was painful to him.

She glared at him and turned away but couldn't help but respond, "Harry, Ron, and I all had separate detentions, I don't know why I should expect you to show up at mine." It hadn't been a stupid question, not really, and she hated that he made her feel like it was.

Malfoy did not respond, and when she turned around he was leaning back in a desk. He had his legs propped up on the chair next to him, arms folded across his chest, and his head back looking at the ceiling as though he didn't have a care in the world.

What a prat.

And of course, now he decided to ignore her. In fact, he was acting like he didn't know he was in detention at all, let alone had lost his house a hundred points. Gods, she shuddered at the thought - having all of Gryffindor house mad at you was one thing - having all of Slytherin house mad at you would be downright terrifying. Eyeing Malfoy more closely he did seem to be tired; he had dark bags under his eyes and seemed more drawn than usual. She couldn't imagine he had been sleeping much.

She almost felt a pang of pity for him. Her sanity returned quickly though when he gave her what was obviously supposed to be a long suffering sigh "I would offer you a photo so you could continue staring, however, the idea of your dirty mudblood hands touching even a likeness of me is absolutely revolting."

Hermione blushed a deep red, not from embarrassment, but anger, unfortunately – or maybe fortunately - before anything could be said or done the door swung open.

Professor McGonagall walked in, struggling with the load or papers in her arms. She was carrying what looked like a year's worth of scrolls, and Hermione eyed them with trepidation, sure they would never read through all of them.

"This," McGonagall said, setting the scrolls down with a sigh and a shake of her arms "Are the first set of essays for the two of you to grade.

"We will start out with these because they are from the first and second years. As the two of you rank number one and two in your year, first and second-year material should be simple for you."

Hermione shot a stunned look at Malfoy. He was second in her year? She knew she was first, everyone knew that, but she hadn't even considered who was second - though she would have assumed a Ravenclaw. She wasn't quite sure why this was such a shock but it just seemed… Wrong. McGonagall continued, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the expression on Hermione's face.

"The names will be magically hidden from you to prevent favoritism." This she said with a pointed look at Malfoy who was studiously looking out of the window behind her. "You will not grade for grammar and style - heaven knows that would take much too much time – merely for the facts and content."

Hermione was well aware of this already - the fact that no witches or wizards studied English beyond 11 years old was baffling to her.

"Each assigned essay has an outline of information they should have included and common mistakes. A point is given for each topic that is on the outline, points taken away for incorrect assumptions, irrelevant information, and obviously wrong facts. If you do not know how to grade something circle it and set it aside. I will be spot checking all of the essays you grade - so please do try to do what I have asked."

Professor McGonagall looked them both over as though still not sure that this was a good idea. "This is not a typical detention, and if our two highest ranked students had not found it necessary to go wandering in the middle of the night, this would not be happening. As it is, you will be utilized for your talents. Please do not make me regret this." She said the last bit with a glare that, despite the please, made it clear this was not a request.

Hermione was actually starting to feel a little excited to do this. It was a big responsibility; other student’s grades were in her hands! She quickly straightened in the seat she had taken when the McGonagall had started talking. She heard Malfoy snicker behind her, but she didn't care. He may not want to prove himself, but she did, and this was a great opportunity. She wasn't about to waste it. Not even if it meant she had to deal with Malfoy's taunts. Like that was anything new.

Professor McGonagall placed a sizable stack of essays on Hermione's desk along with the outline and, after giving the same to Malfoy started walking to the door "I am sure you two are able to work without direct supervision, I do expect something to show for the next few hours. I will be back once it is time to end for the night." and with that, she swept out of the classroom.

Eager to begin, Hermione pulled the first essay to her. The essays she had been handed were about switching spells and their allowed uses. She took a deep breath and dove in. Just like when she did her own homework Hermione became completely absorbed in the work. She thought she might be marking the papers a little too much, but she was trying to grade fairly. Trying to remember this was a first-year class. She shook her head at one student's proposition to use switching spells to turn spoiled food back to unspoiled by simply transforming the mold to, well, they didn't actually say what they would switch it to, just to be switched. That wasn't just a bad idea - it wasn't even fully formed.

a few essays later Hermione let out a sigh of exasperation and ran her fingers through her thick hair, pausing at the back of her head before untwining her fingers from the knotted curls to start again. She jumped slightly at the sudden laugh behind her. She had almost forgotten that Malfoy was here too. He was at a desk behind her and to see him she had to turn all the way around. She did just this as she heard another chuckle from him.

"Is something funny?" she attempted to insert as much ice in her voice as possible. She didn't want him to think she was making conversation, but she wanted to make clear her annoyance at his interruption.

He looked at her, an irritating quirk in his mouth "Well Granger, you might want to at least try to control your subconscious responses. You've run your fingers through that fizzy mess on your head so many times it might just decide to fly off on its own."

She glared at him, again. Is there a record for how many times someone had glared in a single night? She was sure she would be reaching it soon.

"I mean" He continued, only grinning wider at her response "that might be an improvement for you. Being bald I mean." Smiling at what he seemed to think had been a terribly clever joke he looked at her with a mild expression, clearly waiting for her to glare again.

Shots at her hair were really getting old as of late, but if that was the worst he could do she wasn't even going to give it a response. Turning back to the papers in front of her she contented herself with a derisive sniff. She could hear him chuckle again, but didn't turn, it was, however, impossible to stop her shoulders from involuntarily tensing at the sound.

Once she was again absorbed in the work Hermione was surprised with how quickly the time passed and before long McGonagall was striding back into the room. Proud of the number of essays she had graded Hermione turned her head back to Malfoy to confirm that she had indeed done more than him. Unfortunately, his pile of graded papers seemed to be almost the same size as hers! There was no way he did as many as her - he must not have been grading as thoroughly as she had.

Content with this explanation she turned her head back to McGonagall. "It appears as though you have both completed your share of essays. Do either of you have any questions about the process? You will be doing the same thing for the duration of your detentions, so please ask them now to avoid any future delay." McGonagall paused for a second, looking at them both.

"Nothing? Okay. Dismissed. I will see you back here at the same time tomorrow."

Hermione shot the professor a smile and then quickly walked out of the room hoping to avoid having to be around Malfoy any more than necessary. Thankfully he seemed in no hurry, and so it was with a relieved sigh that she made her way up to the common room.

When she arrived it looked like Harry had just returned from his detention as well, though Ron was nowhere to be seen.

"How was it?" Hermione asked breezily as she walked over to where Harry had just collapsed by the fire.

"Not as good as yours it would seem." Harry looked a little annoyed at her seemingly easy detention but continued "It was just cleaning, nothing the Dursley's haven't made me do a thousand times, but I am sure my back will just kill tomorrow. If I never have to see the floor of the potions room again it will be too soon."

"Oh, gross! The floor of the potions room?" There were so many spills in that room, not to mention all of the animal parts used in potions. She was feeling very lucky to just be grading papers, even if she did have to deal with Malfoy.

"So why are you so cheery then? I suppose correcting papers is just another normal night for you, huh?" Harry said this with a small laugh, as it was usually his paper's she was grading.

'Well, yes." She didn't want to rub it in, certainly not while Harry grimaced rubbing his back like he was "But, I have to do it with Malfoy…"

"Ugh, I guess that does make it a little more even. Did he try anything?"

"No, thankfully. For him." She said the last part with a smirk. Her new found knowledge of Malfoy's success made her a little less confident in her superior ability, but only slightly so.

She didn't mean to be arrogant about it, and she really didn't think she was. She was smart; it was as simple as that. She had never had too much of a challenge coming in first, and she didn't feel like she should pretend that she did. Harry knew this, and his appreciative snort at her comment made it clear that he knew she meant what she said. So what if others thought she was stuck-up, her friends didn't, they appreciated her ability. That was all that mattered. Most of the time.

Turning at what she thought might be the most dramatic sigh she had ever heard Hermione saw Ron walking through the portrait hole. "Ron, what could they possibly have done to you to have you make that sound?" Hermione could help but laugh as he scowled at her.

"For your information, I just spent the entire evening carrying  _very_  heavy cauldrons from the dungeons to a private brewing room. Apparently, the seventh year's NEWT trials are so dangerous they can't even practice on the same floor as everyone else. No, he had to find an abandoned classroom practically in the astronomy tower!" Hermione let out a small gasp.

"Well," Ron continued, getting a little flush in the face "maybe not that far, but after an entire night even carrying them from the dungeon to the first floor feels like the astronomy tower! And, if I could have used magic I would have been done in ten minutes! It is just cruel!"

Hermione turned away as she smiled at his response, the first floor was nothing to the astronomy tower - but it was a long time to carry heavy objects, even if it was just up a single floor. She met Harry's eyes and couldn't help but grin even wider, she knew he was thinking the same thing.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed, catching their glance "Whatever I was doing I am sure it was harder than what you had to do! Grading papers, honestly, for you that's probably a reward." Although Hermione had been thinking something similar earlier, she certainly wasn't going to let them know that.

"For your information, it is not exactly a piece of cake trying to decipher eleven-year-old hand writing, it gives you a terrible headache, and by the end of the month, I am sure I will need glasses. Besides, I have to do my detentions with Malfoy."

"Oh... that is rotten luck... Still, you're not carrying cauldrons." Ron persisted collapsing into a comfy armchair by the fire. "What did you have to do Harry?"

As Harry and Ron began a surprisingly heated discussion on the various aspects of cleaning potions floors versus carrying cauldrons Hermione turned to watch the fire. She really was glad she had gotten the detention she had and not either of those the boys had. She felt a brief surge of annoyance when she wondered whether she hadn't simply because she was a witch and they didn't think she was physically capable, but then she remembered Malfoy was with her so that couldn't be it - or all of it at least.

But why was Malfoy there - or, more specifically, how could he be ranked second in their year? Hermione couldn't figure it out, but more than that she couldn't figure out exactly where she had gotten the idea that he wasn't smart. He was always able to answer questions in class. Though typically only once the professor got sick of calling on her. He was even in Arithmancy with her - a class typically only taken by Ravenclaws. How had she not have noticed this? Did they really spend hours a week together without him insulting her or scoffing at her? No, she was sure he still did that - probably just not to her face.

She was a mudblood, a mudblood that was doing better than a Malfoy was. The thought made her smile. She had known she was doing better than him before, but knowing that he was so close made it better somehow. She grinned even more broadly at the thought. Determined to make it even more clear to Malfoy that this mudblood was smarter than him. In the back of her mind, she knew this was not the best side of her, but her sense of competition could rival those of the quidditch players. Probably another reason she was a Gryffindor.

With this thought, Hermione wished the boys goodnight and went down to her room. She drifted off to sleep with surprising ease.


	4. Chapter 4

Making sure to get there first, Hermione was already seated when McGonagall arrived five minutes early for their detention the next day. "I have a few comments for both of you before we get started, but let's wait for Mr. Malfoy before we get into anything" Hermione waited patiently and Malfoy arrived precisely on time. How annoying. She had secretly been hoping he would be late.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, thank you for joining us. Please take a seat." Malfoy moved to sit in the same seat he had occupied yesterday but McGonagall stopped him "Up here please, I have a few comments and do not wish to yell." She said this with a small smile, almost as an after thought adding, "If it is not necessary."

Slowly, as though the request were painful Malfoy moved to the desk the professor had indicated, leaving one empty space between him and Hermione.

"First, after you left yesterday Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy asked me a question - and I feel like it was important enough that you should consider it as well."

Hermione's mouth dropped - an important question? After she left? This was not right, why would Malfoy care if he was doing things right, and why had he waited until she left? Shooting a look to her right it seemed Malfoy was even annoyed at the fact that it was being brought up. Why wouldn't he want to be recognized for something McGonagall obviously thought was important? This was not starting out well. That was fine, Hermione could make up for it. After all, one thoughtful question wasn't that much.

"Mr. Malfoy here encountered an essay that he believes a student did not write themselves, rather, he thinks an older student wrote it for them. It took rather a keen eye and attention to detail to notice, but after looking at it myself I tend to agree." Hermione worked hard to keep a blank face. Keen eye? Attention to detail? Out of the corner of her eye, Malfoy looked even more annoyed that Professor McGonagall was pointing out these things as Hermione felt having not noticed them. "I would like you both to be on the look out for reoccurrences of this situation and hold those papers in question aside.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy for taking this task seriously, and for being so thorough."

She had been wrong yesterday. He hadn't only skimmed the essays, he had been 'thorough' and still completed as many as she had. The world was surely spinning on it’s head.

"And, Ms. Granger, I do also appreciate your enthusiasm," Hermione beamed "But, going forward, fewer comments please." She said it with a smile but Hermione's heart dropped. McGonagall had praised Malfoy and corrected her. She almost wanted to pinch herself, this had to be a dream.

That's okay, she thought to herself, it will just be more of a challenge now, I can do better. A small part of her shook its head that everything had to be such a competition, but she ignored it, mentally preparing to do the best work she possibly could.

The rest of the detention passed similar to the day before, the only difference being that Hermione was, if possible, even more absorbed in the work. Today she was reading essays about the benefits of expelliarmus and to describe an unusual situation it could be used. It was quite entertaining and reminded her of Harry. Honestly, only he could try to expelliarmus Voldemort.

Then it hit her - of course!

"Malfoy, you're a death eater!" She hadn't meant to actually say this, especially not in such a loud and excited tone, but the shock on his face was almost worth it.

She stammered on, not having meant to say the first part she wasn't quite sure what the second should be, but couldn't very well just make that exclamation and turn back to her work.

"No, I mean… I mean obviously not a real death eater" his face shifted, but she couldn't read it, she continued anyway - needing to get her thoughts out. " I mean… I thought… I couldn't figure out how you could be second in our year, I mean, I never even noticed you… academically I mean… I've always just focused on the Ravenclaws. But I couldn't' figure out why I was so surprised that you were smart."

Ok she could understand the look on his face now, anger and annoyance clearly radiating, but she couldn't seem to stop "I just realized though, I was thinking about Voldemort and I realized, you're a death eater - or you want to be. But you're smart. How in the world could you possibly be doing so well in school but think those stupid 'blood purity' things?"

She said this all in a rush, almost as though ripping off a Band-Aid. Once she had started speaking she had needed to follow the thought through. The thought hadn't even been fully formed in her mind before she spoke it. She was sure her face was bright red, she could almost feel the heat coming off of it. But, despite the poor delivery, she was actually quite excited - she always got excited when she figured something out. But now that the words were out there she also honestly wanted an answer from him. Not that she expected to get it.

The look on Malfoy's face was almost enough to make her want to run and hide. It was clear how angry he was at her implying he should be stupid, color rising high in his pale cheeks, but, she could also see disbelief. Probably that she had said something like that to him. As he had a second to regain his composure a dangerous glint was beginning to show in his eyes, and the all too familiar smirk forming on his mouth. Hermione felt her heart start to pound in her chest. She had never believed more than now that he could actually be a death eater - the look in his eyes…

The door swung open and she jumped as though she had been electrocuted. "Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, I really didn't expect to have to keep the two of you from shirking your work for socializing." McGonagall knew of course that what had been happening was far from pleasant socialization, but, as there was no actual evidence to indicate otherwise, and as the alternative explanation was worse, Hermione kept quiet and turned back to face forward in the desk.

"I apologize, Professor McGonagall, Ms. Granger here was just having a hard time understanding something. She was only asking me for help." Malfoy was an evil, cruel, little worm! She didn't need his help! She opened her mouth to say just that, but the self-satisfied grin on his face told her that was exactly what he wanted to happen.

She couldn't explain to McGonagall what she had just said, and certainly, if she tried to argue the point she would need to. He had said those things just to rile her up. Remembering his reactions earlier she chose a different tack.

"Yes professor, he was very helpful. I don't know what I would have done without him here." Maybe it was overkill, and she didn't doubt that McGonagall could tell something was up, but Malfoy had flushed a light pink color and his eyes were shooting daggers at her, so she had gotten what she wanted.

McGonagall just looked at the two of them for a few seconds in silence. "Yes, well, if there is nothing further then, you may go." And she sat down to look at the papers they had just gone through.

Today Hermione wanted to get a safe distance away from Malfoy even more than usual, but there was no way she was going to risk him asking another 'important' question without her there. She dawdled as much as possible and finally followed Malfoy out the door - no questions having been ventured.

Hermione's first instinct to hurry had been right. The second they were out of the immediate corridor that was occupied by a professor Malfoy turned sharply to face her. He strode forward stopping inches away from her face. Clearly, he had expected her to take a step back, but she refused to let herself be intimidated by him. Well, at least she refused to let him know how much he intimidated her.

That look was back, the one that made her question her refusal to accept that he was a death eater. There was nothing behind those steel gray eyes, they were cold and dark and empty. A small shiver made its way down her spine but, she refused to look away.

Malfoy did not seem fazed by this and leaned a little closer before hissing just loudly enough to hear, "Just because you think you know everything does not mean you do. Your book smarts make you ignorant to the actual world around you. You know nothing, nothing, about my beliefs, and you know nothing about me. If you want to prevent yourself from looking like even more of a fool than you already do I suggest you keep your little mouth shut."

The anger in these words was clear, he was almost shaking with it. Hermione was truly terrified now. She couldn't seem to make her body or her brain responds and just stood frozen in place. Malfoy turned on his heel and marched down to the dungeons without another word.

She had no idea what she had done to make him so mad. Well, she knew she said something stupid before, she knew he would be mad, but not like that. She had seen him mad before, seen him lash out at Harry or Ron, or any number of people, but that was something else. That wasn't a teenage feud mad. That was a type of rage she had never experienced before and she was positively shaking.

Realizing she was still stuck in place Hermione gave her head a light shake, cleared her throat, and started purposefully walking back to the common room. Ron and Harry were already there, but after a quick greeting she made her excuses and went down to bed. Laying in the dark she could hear Malfoy as though he were still mere inches away

"You know nothing, nothing about my beliefs, nothing about me."

What in the world had she said to get him to that level of upset? She almost felt bad, but truly she hadn't meant to do it. Was it that she had accused him of being a Death Eater? Or maybe that she had accused him of not being one. She had said that what he believed was stupid, but that surely couldn't have been news to him - they were on opposite side of a war for gods sake... She was not used to seeing Malfoy like that, he had seemed almost out of control. He usually made such an effort to seem composed and together. What had set him off like that? She hated not knowing things. Now she had two things she didn't know. Her original questions - how could someone so smart believe in things that were so stupid, and why did that same person get so upset when she had asked about it? She had to find out, she needed a plan. Merlin help her - she sounded like Harry.


	5. Chapter 5

 

Draco walked quickly down to the dungeons, straight through the common room, ignoring the friends that called out to him, and into his room. Getting purposefully into bed he made sure all of his usual privacy charms were up and his curtains drawn. Reassuring himself that no one could see or hear him for the moment he let out the breath he had been holding. Positioning himself to sit cross-legged at the head of his bed he dropped his head into his hands and ran his fingers through his too long hair.

He was shaking he knew, but no one could see. He could let himself lose control for a minute. Taking deep steadying breaths he tried to think. That stupid little mudblood, that annoying stupid little… she had called him a death eater. Sure she had corrected herself, but was that because she didn't want to let him know that she knew? There was no way that she could know. Only himself, his mother, and a select few of the Dark Lord's servants knew.

 

Granger and her friends were so nosy. Always trying to get in the middle of everything,  _save the world_. Like they knew anything about the world. He pulled up the sleeve on his left arm to look at the dark charred flesh there. The mark was physically burned into your skin, it was the second most painful thing he had ever experienced. The first being the cruciatus curse his aunt, and now the Dark Lord occasionally turned on him. He quickly shook his head and pulled down his sleeve. No, let's not think about that. There really was no way that she actually knew - but the chosen one and his tag along friends may be guessing.

Harry had been sitting in their train compartment on the way to school. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to actually say something obvious - he had known Harry was there. But, he had hinted at it. That had been stupid of him. It was only a few months ago, but it seemed like a lifetime. He had not realized what accepting his task had meant at that point. He had not known… But with his father in Azkaban and his mother living in the Manor with the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters to keep her constant company, she was a prisoner in all but word. And now that he knew just how high the stakes were. He couldn't risk anyone finding out. Especially not the wonder trio.

There really wasn't much for it though, he would just have to continue to be careful. He wondered about his outburst at Granger - he knew it had been extreme for what had been said. The terror in Granger's face as her eyes widened at his words had been - uncomfortable. She was a nosy little bitch, and a mudblood to boot. But really, he didn't want to terrorize people.

Anymore at least.

He had gained the fear and respect of those around him at this point, no need to overdo it. Hopefully, she would just think he was upset that she had implied he could be stupid.

He chuckled a little at this, how could she be so smart and so stupid herself. And they thought he was the one blinded by his prejudice. He snorted, rolling his eyes - to think someone couldn't be intelligent just because they believed differently than you. Draco climbed out of bed and headed back to the common room now that he had calmed himself down, 'how could he do well in school and think such stupid things?' Really. If he hadn't known better he would think she was being intentionally obtuse.

Later that night, right before he fell asleep Draco realized something, and he wasn't sure why it had taken him so long. Granger had called the Dark Lord by his name, and she hadn't even flinched. He didn't know quite what to make of that. Probably just too much Gryffindor 'bravery'. Though he had to admit, no one he knew would have ever have dared to say it.


	6. Chapter 6

Try as she might Hermione had not been able to come up with a plan to figure out what exactly had happened with Malfoy that night. She had endured three more detentions with him, and besides the occasional scoff when she looked in his direction, they had not interacted at all. Gryffindor? Yes. Suicidal? No. She was not going to bring anything up on her own. She was hoping Malfoy would be mad enough to bring it up again. But she had no such luck. Now it was the weekend, she had two free days before her detentions started up again, and she was determined to put the whole matter out of her mind.

After a quick breakfast, listening to Ron and Harry talk about the day they were planning to spend flying, and leaving them with a few admonitions about homework, Hermione cheerfully went to the library. Since they were off the team, she knew they needed a chance to fly on the weekends. It wasn't the same of course, but it made it a little easier for them she thought.

Settling down in her favorite alcove - in a little-used corner full of books about magical artifacts, Hermione quickly fell into her usual rhythm. It wasn't uncommon for her to lose track of time while doing this; the books in front of her just seemed so much for important than the mundane whispers floating around the library. So it was with a start that she heard footsteps an aisle or two in front of her. Students usually didn't come to this area of the library, that is why she loved this spot so much. Magical artifacts was a pretty specific subject, and one not usually covered by any of the school classes. Unless there was a special project, students seemed have no reason to look through the books surrounding her alcove.

Not one to deter any one else in their quest for knowledge, Hermione simply smiled and turned back to her Astronomy research, keeping one ear on the wandering individual in case they gave any indication of needing help. She may not technically have her prefect duties anymore, but that didn't mean she couldn't help students when they needed it. Especially in the library. With this thought in mind, she looked up expectantly as the footsteps rounded the end of the aisle in front of her and their owner came into view.

Shit. Hermione almost jumped from her seat until she reminded herself that she was, in fact, a Gryffindor, and should not be afraid of students wandering in a library - even if that student was Malfoy. She contented herself with ducking her head over her book.

He clearly had not seen her yet, looking intently at the titles in front of him, slowly making his way towards her. She would not leave her spot simply because Malfoy was walking past, but she certainly wouldn't draw his attention to the fact that she was there.

Keeping her head down as she pretended to read, she practically held her breath, waiting to see what he would do when he finally noticed she was there. Eventually, the footsteps stopped and she slowly raised her eyes to see what was happening. Keeping her head bent over her book she was able to look through the fringe of her hair to see Malfoy had pulled out a book. With a small smile on his face he turned to leave. As Hermione knew would happen, he easily saw her sitting there. The smile left his face as he stormed over in her direction.

Hermione always believed, when it doubt of what to say, it is always best to use proper manners. This may be Malfoy, but she simply couldn’t think of anything else to say as he walked towards her, hatred clear in his eyes.

"Is there anything I can help you with Malfoy? I know this area of the library quite well if you are looking for a book on a particular topic." She was surprised at how cheery her voice sounded while addressing someone so clearly anything but. Malfoy seemed just as surprised with her tone and offer for help as she was. Hermione had seen his eyes widen, and mouth start to open for a fraction of a second before they narrowed at her suspiciously, his mouth forming a tight line.

"What are you doing here Granger?" The words were practically spat at her again, but she could help the small chuckle that burst through her lips. Remembering their first detention, when she had said the exact same thing, she quickly threw his own response back at him.

"Really Malfoy? What am I doing here?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and she did her best to imitate his smirk. Although she probably wasn't able to get quite as much contempt across, he clearly remembered the previous interaction as well. Malfoy seemed completely at a loss as to how to deal with her sudden appearance, Hermione was sure she had never seen him so unbalanced.

Seeming to realize a few too many seconds had passed since Hermione's response Malfoy gave a "Fuck off Granger." and quickly turned to walk out of the aisle.

"So eloquent Malfoy, I should get your help on my next essay." She didn't know what had made her say it, she usually wouldn't poke a dragon - let alone one that was wide awake and known to be nasty. But, Hermione got another shock when, after pausing for a few breaths, Malfoy simply continued out of the aisle without response.

Hermione did not know what to make of Malfoy's behavior. She considered telling Harry, but he was already obsessing over him enough as it was. Shaking her head slightly she got up to see what section he had pulled his book from.

"Magical artifacts; Furniture"

Furniture? What could that be about? Looking more closely Hermione saw books with titles such as: "Curious Curios; How to Reveal their Secrets" and "Training your Table in Five Easy Steps".

Weird. That was all Hermione could think. Weird. She had no idea what Malfoy would want with books on magical furniture, but it certainly did not seem sinister. She refused to get caught up in Harry's obsession. Speaking of Harry. She had already been studying for quite awhile already, him and Ron were probably already waiting for her down at Hagrid's. Quickly gathering her things in her bag she took one last look around before heading out to meet them, shaking her head as she walked; magical furniture indeed.

\---

Malfoy waited until she left before daring to leave himself, not wanting to risk another run in with her. Fuck off Granger indeed. Why had she been there, in that specific area of the library of all places? There was no way it could have been a coincidence… But, no. There was no way she could know what he was working on. No one knew, not even Crabbe and Goyle. Despite the fact that the nosey trio seemed to know about him using the Room of Hidden Things, they could not have gotten in without him. He had been very specific in his requests to the room, and it had not deviated in any other way from what he had asked. He had no reason to think it would on this.

Finding out about the room had been quite serendipitous for him. And, really it was thanks to the golden trio that he had found it. He knew there was some sort of magic on that room after trying to find them for their stupid defense meetings. But, even after they found the room they couldn't seem to make it let them in. No one could figure out how it worked, except perhaps Potter and his friends. But Draco had been determined to find out. He spent hours trying to spell the wall open, no books in the library had any mention of such a room, even Severus hadn't known about it. Not that Snape's lack of knowledge surprised him anymore, but it had then. No, he found out practically on accident. He had gotten sick of angrily shooting spells at a wall and began pacing back and forth, trying to think of another way to get the door to appear. Eventually just repeating in his head over and over "Just tell me how to get in the room!" After pacing just a few times, he had been amazed to see words appearing on the black wall just where Potter's door had been.

Look inside me and you'll see  
I'm anything you want me to be.

A closet or a trap,  
A forest or a sea,

Or maybe just a place to take a nap.

Walk three times past, and in your head I will see  
The thoughts that are meant just for me.

Although initially annoyed at how simple it was to get inside, Malfoy quickly became enthralled with the possibilities. And now, with his task, it was the perfect place to work. The only place he could be sure of complete privacy. He wasn't worried about the golden trio following him there. Since their run in last week, he made sure to fully shut the door after he left and that was it.

He had managed not to worry about the mudblood's proclamation that he was a Death Eater. But now that same mudblood was sitting in that specific area of the library. He looked down at the book he had taken from the shelf "Cabinets, dressers, and Armoires; How to Tame Even the Most Fickle of Clothing Storage."

He slowly shook his head, it better be worth it.

Fuck off, Granger. God, that really hadn't been very eloquent had it? Not happy to be agreeing with Granger on anything, he quickly headed to his dorm to read the blasted book.

\---

The late lunch with Hagrid had been great. It really was nice to spend time with her friends while not discussing school, quidditch, or Malfoy. The evening ended all too quickly as they had to make their way up to dinner, pockets again weighed down with the food Hagrid had been serving, and stomachs much too empty. It was a cheerful walk back to the castle, Harry and Hermione playing a pickup game of tag that somehow ended with them simply chasing Ron around the stairs until they made their way into the entrance hall. Eyes bright from laughter, and faces red from running the three stopped, trying to catch their breath before walking into dinner.

"You two," Ron panted "have no sense of rules."

The ridiculousness of this statement coming from Ron was not lost on any of them and before they could even fully catch their breath, they were all laughing again. Ron and Harry were using each other to remain standing and Hermione had found it necessary to lean against the wall next to them until the laughs subsided. Covering her mouth and hiccupping slightly Hermione looked up just in time to see Malfoy stare daggers at her before continuing on his way to the great hall.

"Wow Hermione, what did you do to Malfoy?" Harry had, unfortunately, not missed the interaction.

"Oh, I honestly have no idea. And it has been driving me crazy!" Deciding to leave out the bits she did know - and hopefully prevent Harry and Ron from seeking to avenge her, she only half lied by saying "Possibly something to do with our detentions. I am sure he can't enjoy spending so much time with a mudblood like me." Rolling her eyes she started leading their way to the great hall as well. "Especially one that is smarter than him." She couldn't help adding.

Harry just rolled his eyes, but Ron half yelled: "You can't say that Hermione!" effectively drawing the attention of half of the school. Harry looked confused, he had clearly missed her use of the term mudblood. Harry probably didn't have as much of an emotional response to it, Ron on the other hand, had grown up knowing just how bad it was. But Hermione didn't care.

"Ron, it is just like Harry saying Voldemort. " Ron of course shuddered, but Harry looked interested.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's like Dumbledore said 'fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself'. I am who I am, I don't care what names people have for that. If I don't want it to affect me, I have to own it. Mudblood is only a bad word because people have given it a bad connotation. Well, I don't think it has one. I am a damn good witch, so the way I think about it, for me at least, being a mudblood isn’t a bad thing.”

As she expected, Harry seemed to take what she said in stride. Even if he didn't like it, he could see why she wanted to use it. Not saying these names or words only seemed to put them on a pedestal and make them worse.

Ron, however, did not take it so easily.

"Hermione, you don't get it. Just because you say that doesn't make it true. By calling yourself that it is almost like you are agreeing with them. Maybe you can make it mean something else to you, but anyone else who hears it is only going to know what gits like him mean when they say it." Ron had gestured over at Malfoy while making his statement. Malfoy certainly didn't seem pleased with the attention and sent them all a rude hand gesture in return. Ron happily mirrored the gesture, but with all the professors around, that was about all either of them could do.

Sitting down and filling her plate Hermione just wanted to change the topic. They had been so happy before. She looked desperately at Harry and he seemed to understand she did not want to continue the conversation. Before Ron could speak again Harry brought up some save or other he had made earlier and Hermione could happily tune out. It felt nice that Ron was so bothered at her being insulted, but she really did want to stop being so bothered by the name-calling. She was determined to use the term mudblood as often and as positively as possible - in her own head at least, she thought with a smile directed at Ron.


	7. Chapter 7

Sunday passed without incident and before she knew it Hermione was on her way, once again, to detention with Malfoy. She was rather early, by about thirty minutes actually, but she figured she could work on her homework just as well in the classroom as the library, and probably much better than the common room.

Her mind on her work, she turned the corner and was surprised to see Malfoy reaching the door ahead of her. Why would he be here so early? She stopped quickly so he could go in the room without noticing her, but he seemed to have stopped as well. Pausing next to the door he crossed his arms, laying them against the wall in front of his face, and slowly lowered his head to rest against his arms. He looked… tired? Hermione could certainly remember doing that same action many times, especially around finals or when she was fighting with Ron, but to see Malfoy do it was… Weird. More than weird. After a few deep breaths Malfoy seemed to regain his composure, straightening his back, he tugged on his robes and pulled the cuff of each of his sleeves sharply. Head raised slightly more than natural, the better to look down on everyone, and he was normal Malfoy again. He walked through the door and shut it behind him with a snap.

Wonders will never cease. Hermione was again shaking her head at Malfoy's strange behavior. Whatever task Harry had over heard him bragging about on the train must not be going well for him.

Waiting a couple of minutes so Malfoy would not suspect her of having seen his moment of weakness, Hermione followed him quietly into the classroom. He was sitting in his usual seat one space away from hers. Legs on his desk and arms behind his head again he looked the picture of an unburdened teenager. But, as Hermione looked, though she may have imagined it after the scene outside, it seemed… forced. Almost as though he were uncomfortable in his show of comfort. Putting on a show. Certainly when he glanced over and saw that she had arrived the muscles in his jaw and bicep flexed, tensing, and didn't 'relax' again until she took a seat at her desk.

She couldn't help but feel bad for him. She didn't like that she did, he certainly didn't deserve her sympathy, but she couldn't help herself. It was who she was. He seemed so tired. And, just not… himself.

Not that it was a bad thing really. But, he hadn't even been picking fights with Harry and Ron like he used to. Clearly, he was dealing with something. Shaking her head she tried to get Harry's voice saying 'Death Eater' out of her head. But more and more it was starting to make sense. Something was going on with Malfoy. And nothing good from the looks of it.

Coming to a decision she mentally prepared herself for the slew of insults she was about to receive.

"Look, Malfoy, I get that you don't like me. And you know I don't like you either. But… Well… Are you okay?"

She cringed even as the last words were still coming out of her mouth. Malfoy just stared at her. No smirk or scoffing, just a furrowed brow, and blank face. He continued to stare for much longer than Hermione considered polite, and she was just about to say so when Snape swept into the room. Both Hermione and Malfoy jumped, Malfoy's chair slammed from the two legs he had been leaning on to all four, and Hermione stumbled a few steps as she spun on her heel to get in her seat and face the front of the room.

"Ms. Granger, we are in a class room, not a dance club. Please refrain from spinning so quickly, it would be a blow to us all if you were to injure yourself." Of course, Snape said nothing to Malfoy, whose reaction had been much worse than her simply spinning around in the chair.

"Professor McGonagall is otherwise detained and has granted me the honor of dealing with the two of you." His grimace was a direct contradiction to his words. "Here are your papers, I believe you know what to do with them. I will be back to collect them from you in three hours. Do not make me regret leaving you alone." 

\---

Hermione had quickly turned to the papers in front of her, not looking back once since Snape had left. But Malfoy couldn't seem to help staring at the back of her head. What kind of game was she playing? She had seemed oddly sincere. But he knew it had to be an act. Even if it wasn't - what did she expect, him to confide in her? Malfoy had always assumed she was a bleeding heart just like all the other Gryffindors, but this was a step above. Possibly she was just trying to get him to trust her - but that idea seemed so ridiculous, Granger would never believe that she could actually make that happen. But then what?

With a start, he remembered his behavior before walking into the room today, a lapse, a show a weakness. But she couldn't have seen that... He could feel anger boiling up inside of him. He did not want pity.

Especially not hers.

This blasted mudblood who was determined to spit in the face of everything his father had taught him. She should not be quite so smart, quite so capable… But, he reminded himself, there are always outliers. It did not mean that their beliefs were false, only that they were subject occasionally to twists of fate and genetics. Not every mudblood could be bottom rung - statistically a Granger would pop up every once in awhile. Just not every pureblood could to top – take the Weasleys for example.

But, surely only something as cruel as fate would keep shoving Granger in his path. Especially now, this year.

He had to figure out what she was up to, see how far she would take the charade. 

Wadding up a scratch piece of paper he had been using Draco threw it at the back of Hermione's head. She tensed but did not turn around.

"Granger." No response again.

"Hey, Granger!" Finally, she turned around, though he knew she heard him the first time, he was not bothering to keep his voice down. Her eyes were narrow and weary as she looked at him.

"What?" She barely whispered, even though Snape was long gone by now. Trying his best not to roll his eyes he looked straight at her. "You asked if I needed help, right?" Technically she hadn't said those words, but close enough.

"Well yeah, I guess I did... Kind of... Do you..?" Malfoy loved to see the know-it-all so confused and off kilter. Could she really be that gullible? 

"I am trying to research something, but I can't find anything on it in the library. I know there is something in the restricted section but, well, no professor will give me permission to look there - obviously."

Hermione had grown even more curious at the mention of the restricted section, leaning forward slightly despite herself. Leave it to Granger to be so interested in something as bloody boring as research.

"And what exactly do you need to know that can't be found in the regular library?" Her eyes were narrowed, naturally suspecting something dark. But he had her interested, and Malfoy had a feeling once Granger wanted to know something she wouldn't stop until she found it out.

"I need to know if there is a way to resist the cruciatus curse."

He wasn't sure what Hermione had been expecting, but after a brief moment of shock, her eyes narrowed back to suspicion. After just enough time that it was starting to get uncomfortable Malfoy looked straight at her, eyes as wide and innocent as possible - a look he didn't have much occasion to practice. "So will you help me?"

Now, this was fun. Hermione seemed so torn her face couldn't decide which emotion to display. He would have laughed if he wasn't trying so hard to make her think he was sincere.

"So, you want to know only how to make it not hurt the person it is directed at?" She asked haltingly, as though part of her didn't want to continue the conversation. Malfoy couldn't believe she might actually take the bait. People that tried so hard to be nice were always so easy to manipulate. If he got her to do this maybe she would stop being so curious about him and his actual work - it would keep her busy at the very least.

Draco knew there was no way to stop the curse from hurting him, that was they whole point of it. Any pureblood wizard would know better than to even try, but the mudblood just didn't understand the old magic, didn't respect it. None of them did.

Looking up, he saw Hermione waiting for him to respond to her question, and Malfoy's stomach dropped. Pity. She was looking at him with pity. Like she thought he actually needed her help. That was not what he had intended. Spark her curiosity yes, but not her pity. Oh, gods, he was getting pity from a fucking mudblood, could this day get any worse?

"Look mudblood, I don't need your help. I just need you to leave me the fuck alone." He saw her recoil at his words, and probably the anger showing in his eyes. He was quite proud of his ability to get across his anger with just a look. But he needed her to leave him alone - not get more suspicious. If he could just get a full night's rest maybe he could think straight. He was letting his anger control him. Trying to clear his head Malfoy reminded himself that he was a Slytherin after all, who cared what Granger thought of him? She was a mudblood, a political nobody. There was nothing to be gained from her opinion. But there was plenty to be gained from keeping her busy.

Gritting his teeth about what he was about to do, he looked down at his desk to better hide any left over anger or annoyance that may show on his face. He let out a deep sigh and continued in a low voice "Look, I… it just would be helpful if I could figure that out. It hurts like hell, you know? And it's hard to think afterward. I don't like not being able to think straight around… Well. It's just not safe to not have your wits about you."

He had not exactly planned what he was going to say, and what had come out had been uncomfortably honest - but it seemed to have worked. Glancing up at Granger he saw that she had the same glint in her eye she got whenever a professor set a new challenge. Struggling not to scoff at how easy the silly heart-on-your-sleeve Gryffindors were to play he pointedly looked back down at the essays in front of him, effectively dismissing her attention.

\---

Hermione turned back around once Malfoy had started to work again, but she couldn't focus, she was stunned. She could not figure out what had just happened, or rather, why it had just happened. Instead of Malfoy's anger and spite he had asked her for help.

She wasn't stupid, she knew it was some sort of game. But still. For Malfoy to ask for her help - even with whatever mal intent he had… She obviously was not about to trust the emotion in Malfoy's voice. And that sigh, Merlin, he could rival Ron in his acting ability. Her best guess was that he was just trying to distract her.

She doubted, no matter how hard you looked, you could find anything about resisting the cruciatus while studying magical furniture. So obviously that isn't what he was trying to figure out. But… It was an intriguing research question. And even if Malfoy didn't actually care, it could actually help some of the members of the Order too.

Hermione shook her head, wondering why no one had seemed to have tried this yet. She knew from Moody's classes (really Crouch) that there was supposedly some ancient magic in the curse that made it impervious to regular pain potions. But no one seemed to look any further than that.

For all she hadn't known about the magical world when she found out that it existed, it seemed those born into just accepted things as they were way too easily. Someone told them things were a certain way and they never questioned it. There was so much out there that seemed to have just… not been explored.

Attempting to put aside the thoughts, for now, Hermione turned to the essays Snape had left. It would not do to not finish what he had left for her. No amount of tempting new research would make her risk both his and surely McGonagall's ire.

When Snape did come back she had just finished her stack and was placing it in a pile on the professor's desk. Before turning back to her desk she noticed that Snape seemed to be attempting to get Malfoy's attention - but he was determinedly looking away. Apparently feeling Hermione's gaze Snape's attention shifted, and he dismissed her with narrowed eyes and a jerk of his head. She did not hesitate, quickly shutting the door behind her as she left the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione had, again, thought about telling Ron and Harry about Malfoy's latest weird behavior. Again, she decided not to. She wasn't quite sure why. She knew Malfoy was trying to play her and wasn't really earnest when he had asked for her help but… She didn't know. Maybe she was trying to prove that Gryffindors weren't all act-first-think-second. Harry and Ron surely would have tried to confront Malfoy - But there really wasn't anything to confront him on. Not wanting to be hurt by the cruciatus curse certainly wasn't incriminating. Eventually, Hermione had compromised. She told Ron and Harry about her new research - but, not where the idea had come from.

Harry had seemed interested enough, and Ron had only repeated the typical refrain about old magic. But both had quickly turned to a discussion about how busy they both had been lately in an obvious attempt not to be asked to help. They needn't have bothered, of course. She loved them dearly, but research was really not their forte. Instead, she just asked if they would mind working on their homework in the library with her while she researched instead of the common room. Their company was enough to keep her happy, even if they were working on different things.

Not long after beginning research Hermione was starting to become convinced that Malfoy had been right on one thing - if there was anything on this subject it certainly did not seem like it would be in the regular library. Harry on Ron agreed with her that her best bet would be talking to McGonagall to gain access to the restricted section. After all, she was in the order, and would more fully understand why Hermione wanted to do this research.

Trying to push down the guilt that came from the half lie, Hermione told McGonagall the same thing as her two friends - she just wanted to help in some way. McGonagall had seemed sympathetic, and, after telling her that the old magics were really quite impossible to break, had written her permission to continue her research in the restricted section. Trying to ignore the almost motherly look of concern on McGonagall's face, Hermione hurried out of the classroom, and back to the library.

\------

Almost a month had passed and Hermione had been spending more and more time holed up in the library. She was having very little luck, but, rather than being discouraged she was more and more determined. Harry and Ron had started just letting her be, as any questions they asked her would inevitably lead to long rants about the insufficient research done on anything that had existed for more than a hundred years, or the evil nature of the information she was coming across in order to try to find what she was looking for. She never gave any details, of course. She didn't even like to think about it if she could help it. But she was appalled by the things she was learning. She was certainly glad that Malfoy seemed unable to access this information.

Her breakthrough came the day of her last detention with Malfoy. She had a few hours before it started and was in her usual alcove in the magical artifacts section of the library. She had looked at everything she could find on curses and counter curses, and hadn't found anything. So she decided to branch out and had drawn this particular book almost at random. Hermione had been trying to ignore it really. The book seemed to be more stained than the others and seemed to give off a distinctly sinister air. Eventually, she resigned herself to reading it and had been quite surprised at it's contents. There had been no title to indicate so, but it turned out to be a potions book. Possibly explaining the extraordinary amount of stains on it. But it was the potions in it that surprised her.

They were, well, boring really. Nothing she hadn't heard of, and some that they had even made in class in previous years; shrinking solution, pepper-up potion. Flipping through, Hermione wondered why it could possibly have been in the restricted section. She paused, noticing that there was writing on a page for the pepper-up potion. Even with all the spills covering the book, she cringed to see that someone had defaced it further with writing. But, the writing didn't make sense. Flipping further through the book she saw more and more pages with writing on them. None of it made any sense. Almost like the words were scrambled. 

Taking out her quill and a piece of parchment she went back to the beginning. Copying down all of the nonsensical words and the pages they were on. Putting them in order they seemed to make a little bit more sense. Though what they meant she had no idea. It still was just random instructions pulled from other potions, added notes, and page numbers. It was a logic problem. It had to be. Like what Snape had done with the potions in the Chamber of Secrets. She shook her head at the thought that Snape had been the one to write in the book - but she would have recognized his handwriting, she was sure of it.

Hermione became completely absorbed in her research, even more than usual. She was half terrified at the potions she was discovering as she deciphered the instructions. Potions to disfigure, to cause the worst kinds of pain, potions that would make you re-live your worse memories, and most terrible fears. Some of the potions looked to be meant to kill. But almost worse than that were some of the ingredients - the blood of the victims, blood of the loved ones of the victim, tears of children caused by pain, fingernails ripped from living victims.

She shuddered to even think about it. But, she thought she might have actually found something useful.

One of the potions was a numbing potion. It seemed to indicate that it's intended use was something along the lines of a waking paralysis, or to prevent a victim from passing out from torture. But it was so strong... And if it were tweaked just a little, maybe they could numb the part of the brain that felt pain, rather than the part that caused movement.

It was an interesting question, but she certainly had never dared to experiment with potions before. And this one… Well, she wouldn't want her first attempt to be on something this complicated. Thinking about it, the only person she knew that might know enough to help her figure this out was actually the person she had found it for. Malfoy…

Malfoy! Oh no, she had completely lost track of time! Glancing at her watch she saw she was already almost five minutes late to her last detention. Swiftly gathering her things, she started to run out of the library before turning around and carefully placing the potions book back in the restricting section having copied all she needed already. Rushing once more she barreled through the hallways until she got the classroom.

Hermione paused briefly to try to slow her breathing before she went into the room., but she gave it up as a bad cause. She quickly opened the door and rushed to her desk. Malfoy and McGonagall were already there, apparently absorbed in their work, but both looked up when the door shut loudly behind her.

"I am sure you have a perfectly good reason for being tardy Ms. Granger." McGonagall looked at her expectantly.

"Yes, I was, I just. Got lost in. Some homework." The words came out in huffs and Hermione tried again to slow down her breathing. Malfoy looked at her, clearly communicating his condescending amusement at her lapse in decorum. His eyes widened dramatically however when Hermione looked at him with a large grin. She couldn't help herself. She really thought she had figured it out. Something even McGonagall hadn't thought possible. McGonagall! Maybe it would be better to get help from her rather than Malfoy. Or really, it should be Snape...

But, no, she couldn't help it. She was still wondering just how smart Malfoy really could be, and this seemed like a great way to find out. She wouldn't actually brew something unless she fully understood it. She wanted to see if Malfoy really did not potions the way Snape seemed to think he did. She doubted he really earned his marks in that class (probably the only one that he did better than her on) and this would be the perfect way to prove it. 

McGonagall had raised her eyebrows at Hermione's behavior but seemed to decide to ignore it for now.

"Well," she said crisply "your work is on the desk, I still expect you to complete it before you leave tonight, so get started."

Hermione hurried to sit down and proceeded to bury her head in her work. She wasn't as focused as she should be, but she figured she would still be able to finish almost at her usual time. When McGonagall seemed occupied enough in the work before her, Hermione hurriedly tore off a corner of a scratch paper writing quickly "wait for me after detention" and spelled the paper to fly behind her onto the desk Malfoy was working at.

She didn't look back to see his reaction, but she was sure he would be confused. Hermione knew he hadn't expected her to find anything really. She was actually quite positive Malfoy was just trying to keep her busy from figuring out what he was really doing - but she didn't mind. She had no new leads on the magical furniture issue, so this was as good as any other research she may have ended up deciding to pursue. Plus, if he helped her tweak the potion (if he actually know how to) then she would be getting him to unwittingly help the Order. The perfect cherry on top.

When their time ended Malfoy got up, placed his papers on the professor's desk, and strode out. Hermione had two essays left to grade and briefly wondered if he would actually wait or not - but there was nothing she could do about it now if he decided not to. Finishing up her grading a few minutes later she also walked up to place the stack on McGonagall's desk.

"Professor McGonagall?" The professor looked up, encouraging her to continue.

"I am sorry I was late today. But, well, I just wanted to say thank you. For the trust you placed in me to grade these papers. I know it was a punishment, but I really didn't mind it. And I think you knew I wouldn't mind it. So, thank you. For, you know, not making me clean potion floors or carry cauldrons." She finished quickly, afraid she had said too much but Professor McGonagall's mouth quirked up into what could almost have been a smile.

"Despite the fact that you and your friends are often found breaking rules together, I gather a lot more rules would be broken if you were not there with them." Hermione started to blush at this, though she wasn't sure if it was because McGonagall seemed to understand her dynamic with Harry and Ron so clearly or what she took as praise for doing what she could to keep them in line.

McGonagall continued more seriously "I know the real punishment for you was the loss of your prefect status. But I couldn't very well give everyone else such a punishment and not you... Do not take this to mean that I approve of your rule-breaking. It is quite frankly reckless, and I do expect more from you. But I do understand - with the company you keep - how it would be difficult to reign in some of the more… spontaneous ideas."

Hermione wasn't sure whether this was meant to make her feel better or worse. Somehow it seemed to be doing both. Not quite sure of the appropriate response she simply said "thank you, Professor." and turned to walk from the room.

"Ms. Granger." McGonagall called after her "Do try to keep it up. I don't know that I could handle those two on my own either."

A small smile formed on Hermione's face as she nodded at her professor, and walked out the room.


	9. Chapter 9

The smile still lingering on her lips Hermione was completely caught off guard as she turned the corner and found herself pulled into a small, empty classroom. She had almost forgotten she had asked Malfoy to wait.

He lit a light with a muttered lumos, and a waive of his wand, but kept the light dim enough that it was hard for Hermione to see him. She raised an eyebrow questioningly and he muttered a silencing spell at the door in response.

"I cannot fathom what you have to say to me Granger, but I certainly don't want to be seen associating with you."

Not affected by the words after hearing similar from him for so long, Hermione simply rolled her eyes. Although this seemed to annoy Malfoy, he didn't say anything, apparently content with narrowing his eyes at her. She had to fight to not roll her eyes again, he was so predictable. Then again, why fight it? She let her eyes roll again and was pleased to see how much it seemed to bother him.

"I think I found something to help you."

Malfoy seemed confused at first, almost like he had forgotten that he had asked her for anything. This only further confirmed her suspicions that he had fabricated the need for this research.

"You found a way to counter the cruciatus curse?" His words simply dripped with patronizing disbelief, which only made Hermione happier. She loved proving people wrong.

"Yup." She said this simply, intentionally making him continue the conversation if he wanted the information. Malfoy certainly did not appreciate Hermione trying to gain the upper hand, he looked like he was about to snap; thin and drawn, but terribly dangerous. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were alone.

It was close to curfew, so it was unlikely anyone would be walking past. Her eyes darted unintentionally towards the door. Malfoy seemed to realize what she was thinking, and quickly took advantage of the fear. Ugly smirk back on his face he slowly and purposefully walked towards her, stopping much closer than was comfortable.

Hermione refused to be cowed by Malfoy and made herself stay where she was again, not giving in as he clearly wanted her to back down. She couldn't help a small shudder at the look in his eyes though. How could someone her age have such hate in them? Some emotion fluttered across his face, but it was gone so quickly she wasn't sure if she had imagined it. The anger in his face seemed to radiate. Again, she had no idea why he was reacting so strongly. She knew he didn't like her, despised her even, but he was usually content with derision, or annoyance. This outright rage made it seem like he was coming apart, like he was losing control. This did nothing to calm her fear and she tried to take a few deep breaths.

"Malfoy. You asked me to do this. If you are going to keep reacting like this I really don't want to be around you. But, well. I think I found a solution for you. That is, if you're actually interested." She thought about rolling her eyes again to get across her point but decided against it. They really were alone, and magic or not, he physically towered over her. She had to crane her head to meet his eyes, but there was no way she would look away, not for a second.

"Granger. There is no way to counter the Cruciatus Curse." Malfoy took a step back and rubbed his eyes in annoyance as though addressing a child. "Did you think I really was asking for your help on something?"

He shook his head, making eye contact with her again, "When all you do is try to be nice, to be everyone's favorite little mudblood, it makes you entirely too easy to manipulate. There isn't even any fun in it." He suddenly turned on his heel heading towards the door.

Although Hermione's first thought was one of relief that he was leaving, she suddenly panicked. This potion could really help the Order, but she couldn't do it without him. Choosing to ignore his last comments she had to try to make him understand.

"Malfoy. Wait!" He froze but did not turn around.

Hermione continued regardless. "I really did find something, it was in the restricted section and coded, but I figured it out, it's just, it's not quite right. We need to change it before we can get it to work. But I know we can make it work, we can alter it to block the effects." She, of course, said this very quickly, but Malfoy still hadn't moved. He seemed to be thinking about something so she waited and tried to be patient. What felt like forever but was probably only a minute or two later, Malfoy turned around. No anger or annoyance in his face anymore, he actually seemed - interested maybe?

"Two things Granger." Again, spitting out her name like it was bile. "What is this about 'we'? And what in the world are you talking about? Alter what exactly?"

"Oh, well, a potion, obviously." Hermione almost laughed, more from relief at his reaction than anything else. Thankfully she managed to restrain herself, she did not want to make him mad all over again - he was being much too unpredictable lately.

"And 'we' because if you really are the second best in the class, and if you really as good in potions as Snape always makes it seem…" She paused, waiting for his reaction to her skepticism but he didn't respond so she continued "If you really know your potions then the two of us are probably the only two that can figure this out. Unless you want to go to Snape." The anger that flashed in his eyes at Snape's name startled her, he seemed to be having weird reactions to everything lately. He was supposed to be Snape's little protégé. Malfoy seemed to be thinking it over though, which was more than she had expected. So she waited again to see what he would say.

He seemed angry again. Of course. Hermione almost flinched when he raised his wand, unconsciously moving her hand to the wand in her robe pocket. Malfoy smirked at the movement but just increased the illumination of his lumos.

"Show me."

He turned and stalked to the Professor's desk at the front of the room. Hermione followed pulling her bag around her front to pull out the papers. After pulling the stack out she shifted through it, making sure to not let him see any of the other pages with the creepy, more evil potions on them. Luckily she had deciphered this potion mostly on its own page. With a quick spell to erase a few lines of another potion, she set the page on the desk, turning it to face Malfoy.

He looked over the page for longer than it would take to just read the steps of the potion, and Hermione realized he was trying to figure out the cipher, but her key was on another page. Malfoy looked up at her, seeming to try to decide if dealing with her was worth the potion. She rolled her eyes again, and he glared at her.

"I need to see the book you got this from."

"Malfoy, it was from the restricted section, there is no way I am going to show you that book." Hermione had spoken before thinking about how it sounded. Malfoy took it in stride, seeming to decide it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"I will not show you the book. Or the other things that I found in it. But I can show you the original text for this potion, and the key I made that will decipher it for you."

Hermione dug through her bag for the page with the key she had developed, quickly transferring it to another page so she wouldn't have to erase everything else she had put down on that particular sheet. Handing the page to Malfoy, he took it without comment, picked up the other page, turning to walk out.

"Wait! You can't just take that! Do you have any idea how long it took me to figure out this information? There is no way you are getting it without me being involved!" Malfoy kept walking, ignoring her.

It took a lot to make Hermione mad, especially at someone who looked as exhausted and malnourished as Malfoy currently did - almost like kicking a sick puppy. But she would be damned if she let him walk out of that room with those papers.

Pulling her wand quickly she spelled the sheets out of his hand and snatched them from the air. Then, before he could even turn around she cast the leg lock curse, making him stumble and fall flat on his ass. A quick expelliarmus and a silencio and she walked up to stand in front of Malfoy, effectively helpless on the floor. The rage was back in his eyes, but this time Hermione didn't mind.

"I did you a favor. It is polite when some one does you a favor to say thank you." She tried to put the same level of condescension in her voice as Malfoy had earlier and rather felt like she was succeeding.

"You would not have this information without me, and I will not let you use it without me." His eyes flashed, presumably at the idea of her 'letting' him do anything, but she continued. "If you would like to work on this potion, we will do it together." She lifted up the paper in her hand and began doing a complicated set of spells on it, Malfoy looked on incredulously.

"Whenever you are out of the presence of this paper, you will not remember what it says." This was a spell she had learned to prevent Ron and Harry from simply cheating off of her instead of learning themselves, and she was rather proud of it. Malfoy just glared - not that there was much more he could do.

"I am free on Saturdays if you would care to sit down and figure this out with me then let me know the time and place you would like to meet." She turned, about to walk away, but paused, she really couldn't let this opportunity pass.

"I may be a mudblood Malfoy" she paused as his eyes widened slightly at her use of the phrase "But I am the best witch in the school, I am friends with Harry Potter, and I have helped him face Voldemort more than once." He flinched, as expected when she used Voldemort's name, eyes going even wider. Hermione leaned down, mere inches away from Malfoy's face.

"You and the rest of his followers will lose. You don't scare me." She paused for a second just staring into his steel grey eyes. She couldn't read the emotion there but felt like she had certainly gotten her point across. Hermione slowly stood up, picked up her things, and turned to leave the room.

"Oh, the spell should wear off in about ten minutes. Careful not to get caught out after curfew." Hermione laughed lightly and quickly made her way up to her dorm, happy to spend the rest of the night helping Harry and Ron on their latest assignments.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco was stuck. Literally stuck. The little mudblood bitch.

Ten minutes passed slowly, filled mostly with him thinking of different ways he could curse Granger off the face of the earth.

How dare she talk to him that way. Not even like she was an equal, which would have been bad enough, but like she was better than him. He scoffed, the jumped up mudblood thought she was better than him - a Malfoy. He was shaking with anger when he finally felt the spell release, quickly grabbing his wand that had fallen by his side, he headed to the dungeons, keeping to the shadows to avoid even more pointless detentions.

There were too many thoughts running through his head, he couldn't keep everything straight. He really had almost forgotten his conversation with Granger earlier in the month. He was so focused on that stupid cabinet and avoiding Snape, he could barely force himself to make an appearance in his classes, let alone remember a conversation with someone as insignificant as Granger. The book he found in the library had been helpful but had only taken him so far. He had hit another dead end. It was frustrating. To feel so close, but… Not be able to get it.

His mother tried to reassure him in letters that she was fine, but, even her handwriting was getting shakier now, he could imagine what the Dark Lord was putting her through while waiting for Draco to complete his task. But he couldn't let himself think about that. He had to focus.

He had to figure out how to get the Death Eaters in or he was dead. Literally dead. He doubted many at the school could actually comprehend what that meant. Children. They were all children, playing games, not realizing that the real world was out there waiting for them.

Well, he wasn't going to play the games. He was going to save his mother, he was going please the Dark Lord, and he was going to ensure that the wizarding world did not continue to be corrupted by those who did not recognize its importance.

He didn't agree with all of the Dark Lord's tactics. Frankly, the fear he could induce in Granger had been disturbing. But, no one else was doing anything to protect their world. He would do what was necessary. None of them seemed to realize that this was bigger than them. Bigger than the silly Order, bigger than Harry Potter, bigger even than the Dark Lord. Their whole world was at stake and he would not be a mere observer to the oncoming destruction.

He knew he was right about mudbloods. They were polluting the bloodstream, they had no respect for the power they had simply fallen into. Granger herself routinely flouted societal norms. Trying to free house elves, calling herself a mudblood. Like she understood what it meant. It only served to further highlight her own ignorance. But she was smart. Annoyingly so. He knew that happened sometimes, and it didn't really bother him that she got better marks than him. She knew nothing of what really mattered.

But that potion she had found... If it really worked, maybe he could get some to his mother. Buy her some peace of mind until he got the blasted cabinets in order. He would have to do it. Damn it. He would work on the potion with her. He knew why she wanted it of course, if they really made this work the potion would be a huge protection against the Dark Lord and the rest of Death Eaters. But, that didn't matter, not as much as protecting his mother at least. Making his decision as he walked into his dorm, Draco went straight to the desk and pulled out a sheet of paper.

"Saturday @ 6:00 a.m. Rm 1001." He smirked at that - room 1001 was a largely unknown and entirely abandoned potions room. It would be perfect for them to work, but it was also deep in the dungeons, far outside of any rational Gryffindor's comfort zone. Quickly spelling the parchment shut, he called his eagle owl with the alert chain she had around her leg - warming up so she would know that she was needed. He certainly did not want his owl to be seen delivering a note to Hermione Granger at breakfast the next day. But his owl was used to discretion, she would manage fine.

It struck him that he really ought to be more angry at Granger than he was. She had humiliated him, yelled at him, and left him defenseless in an empty classroom. He cringed at just the thought. But for the life of him, he just couldn't seem to muster the energy to hate as much as he pretended to. He had his role to play, and she had hers. And she had just been so… passionate. He could almost respect that. She was ignorant, for sure, but she didn't believe in her cause any less than he did his. It was nice to have his intelligence and skill matched, even if it was by a mudblood. Malfoy loved to prove himself in a challenge, and, he thought as he settled down in his four poster bed, working with Granger would certainly be a challenge.

\---

Hermione was only a little surprised when a great eagle owl started tapping on her window that night. She had been lying in bed - but far from asleep, and so was able to jump up quickly and retrieve the bird before it woke anyone else in the room. She was a gorgeous owl - of course, Malfoy would have nothing less. Much larger than Hedwig, the owl's golden eyes seemed to follow Hermione as she took the letter from the owl. Hermione noticing a small chain in the shape of a snake around its leg and shook her head at the unnecessarily Slytherin accessory before she unfolded the note.

"Saturday @ 6:00 a.m. Rm 1001"

Of course, he had tried to make it as inconvenient as possible. Too bad for him Hermione was not one to sleep in, and, on her prefect rounds, had thoroughly explored the dungeons. She didn’t particularly like it down there, but, she knew how to find the room, and she wasn't completely thrown off by the dungeon itself. She carefully turned to parchment over and wrote 'Perfect.' on the back, before placing it back with his owl and sending her on her way. Hopefully, her optimism would annoy him even more.

She wasn't quite sure what she was doing. She had attacked Malfoy, and now was planning to secretly meet him alone again. It was terribly reckless. But her curiosity always seemed to win out. Plus, the idea of being able to present this potion to the Order made her more excited that she had previously realized. She wanted to be useful.

She just wouldn't mention who it was that helped her develop it.


	11. Chapter 11

Saturday came much more quickly than Hermione would have liked. Time certainly had the knack of speeding up precisely when you didn't want it too. She wondered again at the logic behind the time turner she had worn in her third year but quickly abandoned the line of thought. She had followed it many times, and all it led to were more and more rabbit holes with no real conclusions in sight.

She arrived at Malfoy's chosen room ten minutes early and began setting things out. She doubted they would be brewing anything anytime soon, but she had paper and quills, not to mention the pages with the recipe and the key on them.

Malfoy seemed slightly surprised to see her already there when he walked into the room, but quickly lifted his nose back in the air, looking past her. He sat down across from Hermione at the same large desk and turned the pages with the potion and the key to face him instead of her.

"Before I start doing anything I am double checking your work." Hermione scoffed at the idea that her work needed to be checked but he was already looking down at the pages, so she just sighed her annoyance.

Hermione had actually figured he would do this and so had brought other homework to work on while he set about unnecessarily figuring out the cipher for himself.

It had taken Hermione a few hours to figure out the pattern hidden in the symbols without the key in front of her. But she was still surprised when only thirty minutes later Malfoy admitted he could see nothing wrong with her translation of the potion. He seemed almost pained to say this and didn't raise his head to look at her.

"I will now begin identifying the purpose of each of the instructions and ingredients. Again, you are not needed, but if you insist on staying, make sure not to bother me."

He finally looked up at her with a pointed raise of one eyebrow. She had indeed been about to argue with his proclamation that she was not needed - she was the only one here that had actually done anything so far - but Malfoy was acting almost like a human, so she just turned back to her other work.

It was nearly five hours later when Malfoy began speaking. Hermione had been almost through with her essay and looked up with a start to see what he was saying, but he wasn't looking at her. He was still looking down at the paper, he was talking to himself.

Hermione smiled at the image before her. She often spoke out loud to organize her thoughts, but to see Malfoy do something so unconsciously was definitely different. Especially considering he seemed to have completely forgotten that she was there.

"The dementor mist is clearly the numbing agent, but what is it that directs the mist? Begonia, obviously for the intent, as indicated by the seven counterclockwise turns. Horehound, pulled under a night with no moon to give the opposite effect. But what makes it target movement... The tears of the one to ingest indicates malice, but also… closeness? Pixie dust could be for movement, they were dart-y little things. But… losing, no, that's it, the pixy dust, added immediately following powdered tooth of a lion. Then spun alternately forward and back, confusing the movement and the bravery, cause a paralyzing fear. Ha. Of course, stupid Gryffindors…"

Hermione couldn't help it, she had been watching silently afraid to interrupt his train of thought, but at the Gryffindor comment, a small giggle had escaped her lips. Blushing slightly, she couldn't help but laugh out loud again when Malfoy jumped at the sudden reminder that he was not alone.

His usual glare was turned on her, but it didn't seem to have as much heat behind it. His eyes were sharp, but with excitement now. Though obviously annoyed that Hermione was the only one he could share it with, he continued after a brief pause.

"Well, obviously I think I figured it out. Though it is only the first step. The next step is, clearly, the more difficult one. I will need to determine exactly how to replace the ingredients I wish to change so that the potion will meet the desired effect."

"you mean 'we'" Hermione corrected, smirking back at his surprise.

"I may not be able to understand the nuances of the potion like you," as much as Hermione hated to admit it, he really did seem to get potions - more than what you could learn from a book "but I do know the general purpose for most any possible potion ingredient." Malfoy looked skeptical but seemed to decide he would rather not engage more than necessary.

"Okay then," he said as he started to picking up his bag, "Make a list of all the potions ingredients that affect pain, one list for emotional pain, one for physical."

"And why can't we do that right now? Where are you going?" She certainly didn't want to put this off any longer. Next Saturday seemed much too long to leave this hanging unfinished.

"Granger, it is none of your business what I do with my time. Despite what your little friends seem to think." He paused here and she struggled not to squirm at the reminder that he knew they had been following him. "I have a life to live, and I do not wish to spend any more time with you than necessary. As your life seems to revolve solely around books, it surely will not be an inconvenience for you to continue without me." And with that, he left the room.

How one person could be so infuriating? Hermione could not figure out. It was like he could not say a single sentence to her without adding an insult to it. Like he was worried that she would forget her place. God. That might actually be it. Insufferable, conceded little…

Oh well. At least one of her questions had been answered. Malfoy really did know what he was doing with potions. She could have probably figured out most of what he had figured out. But, it would have taken her at least a couple days in the library. He had done it in an afternoon. Hermione shook her head as she started to gather her things. Everyone has something they are good at she guessed. It was just annoying for this particular person to be better than her.


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione had meant it that she didn't want to drag out this project, so, once settled back in the Gryffindor common room she began making the list of ingredients that Malfoy had requested.

"Harry, is it just me or has Hermione been working even more than usual?" Ron snickered as he fell into the chair next to her, looking over her shoulder, "and I am positive this isn't actual, required work."

Harry smiled as he sat down on the arm of Hermione's chair, looking at her paper as well. "Potions Hermione? Even you wouldn't volunteer for extra work with Snape."

Ron shuttered dramatically at the thought. Hermione smiled at them but didn't offer an explanation for the work in front of her. She could see Ron meet Harry's eyes behind her head, and knew they were both rolling their eyes at her.

"Hermione, you were gone when we got woke up, but we stopped flying early so that we could all go to Hogsmead together - you're coming with us right? It's only noon..." Truthfully Hermione had forgotten it was a Hogsmead weekend. She looked back down at the list in front of her, she really was on a roll… then she heard Malfoy's voice in her head - taunting her about not having a life.

"Yup!" She stood suddenly. "Let's go!"

Harry and Ron seemed surprised at her quick decision, they had probably thought they would have to convince her to stop working. But, they were right. She had been working too much lately. Getting out of the castle seemed like a great idea.

In record time they were walking down the path to the little magical town. Hermione took a few deep breaths, the crisp, cold air was invigorating. She couldn't believe it was already the end of October. Time was moving entirely too fast in her opinion. It seemed like everything was just building up. And her and her friends were being pushed towards the eventual explosion without any real choice in the matter.

At least she was doing something now, that made it feel a little better. Looking at her friends she felt that things were… right. It may seem crazy to anyone else looking at the people next to her, pushing each other, teasing about something or another, but she really did have faith in them. Somehow the three of them were going to defeat the second most powerful wizard in the world. It sounded impossible, but they had done plenty of impossible things together. She was glad Ron and Harry could still relax like they were. War made everyone grow up faster than they should have to, but being in the center of it all like they were... Well, It was just good to see them goofing off.

Hermione took a quick step, inserting herself between the two boys, laying her arms across each of their shoulders. Laughing at their expressions she pulled them close, asking, "So, how are the Chudley Cannon's doing this year?"

She was barely able to get the sentence out without laughing even harder. The boys both paused is surprise for a solid count of ten before they joined in her laughter, and continued up to the shops, talking and laughing as Hermione continued to attempt an obviously fake interest in Quidditch. Harry and Ron, catching on, began making up ridiculous stories of recent matches for her.

"So then their seeker had to dodge the snitch, coming at him so fast, it nearly killed him!" Harry gestured wildly while telling his story.

"But as he dove off his broom, he jumped on top of the bludger!" Ron continued, trying to outdo Harry.

"Ah, the famous Wronski-feint." Hermione stated knowingly, nodding her head.

"Harry exploded with laughter, while Ron appeared not to be sure whether to laugh or correct Hermione. He settled on sputtering a few nonsensical sounds before giving into the laughter, joining Harry and Hermione on a bench they had just reached outside of Zonko's.

"Hey, look who's here." Harry immediately sobered, looking across the street with a scowl. Lifting her head from where she had been resting it on the back of the bench Hermione looked in time to see Malfoy turn a corner onto one of the lanes students didn't usually visit. It seemed to be mostly houses, nothing too interesting. Why would Malfoy head that way? Harry and Ron both looked like they were ready to follow him, Harry reaching into his robes, surely about to pull out the invisibility cloak he had taken to stashing there all the time.

"Why would he go down there do you think?" Ron asked, keeping his eyes narrowed on the street across from them.

"I don't know, but we are going to find out." Harry, gestured them over behind Zonko's, where no one could see them, and threw the cloak over the three of them.

Hermione thought about trying to stop them, but, honestly, she was just as curious as them about Malfoy's behavior - though she wasn’t about to admit it. She thought of Professor McGonagall's words, but this wasn't a terribly dangerous idea. They were even allowed to be here, which was rare for situations where they were using the cloak.

The two boys bent almost double to cover all three pairs of feet they shuffled as quickly as they could across the street. Malfoy had made it about four houses down, and the trio hurried after him, keeping a few houses between them. Despite the noise of the students on the main road, this street was quiet enough that they could easily give themselves away if they were not careful.

Malfoy was looking into windows as he walked past the houses. Finally, seeming to find what he was looking for, he stopped and pulled out his want. Hermione barely heard him mutter "homenum revelio". It seemed no one was home, and he walked up to the front door, muttering an alohomora, and walked in. To anyone casually watching, he appeared completely at ease, not like he was breaking into someone else's house - which is exactly what he was doing.

Hermione guessed this must be a pretty safe neighborhood, this close to Hogwarts, and this small, but she still couldn't believe the only protection these people would put on their house was something breakable by an alohomora. Then again, she wasn't sure she had ever seen anyone lock the burrow either.

The three crept up to the front window and peered into the small slit that had been left between the front curtains. Malfoy was already kneeling in front of the fireplace and appeared to be talking to the head of a women there.

"That's his mum" Harry hissed at the two of them.

"Is there any way to listen?" Ron whispered, turning to Hermione.

She didn't know any spell that would let them hear through the glass but maybe… She put her finger to her lips and pulled them over the edge of the window. This would be difficult. Taking a deep breath she muttered a spell to mimic the sound of a dog barking, and immediately after spelled the window open an inch.

Harry and Ron were looking at her with eyes as big as saucers. It seemed crazy to make noise, of course. But she had to cover up the sound of the window opening with something. Dogs were fairly innocuous, right? Cautiously looking back through the crack in the curtains, it appeared it had worked. The three of them could hear the faint conversation drift through the open window, uninterrupted.

"…muggle house was safest," Malfoy's mum was saying "Because it's not already part of network of fireplaces, it is harder to track. Especially since you have to use a wizard's fireplace."

"It is fine Mother, it's not my end that we have to be cautious of. No one suspects my task. I am under only the usual amount of observation from the old man. It is only Snape that seems determined to intercede." It was clear from his tone that Malfoy did not appreciate Snape's attention, though it seemed like this was not news to his mom.

"Draco, darling, he is only trying to help…"

"I do not need help." Malfoy's teeth were clenched, and he seemed to be exercising a great amount of control to not actually yell the words at her. His mother just sighed.

"I know. But I do wish you would take it anyway." Draco looked slightly abashed at that, but clearly not enough to allow himself the help.

"Look, it's fine. I am working on it. But, that's not why I wanted to talk." Mrs. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him, mirroring an expression the trio had seen countless times on her son.

"I think I have found a way to help you. Well, at least make it so that they can't hurt you as much." He seemed hopeful, excited to tell his mother this news, but she merely continued to look calmly on.

"I, well, I meant it as a joke at first, but I asked someone to figure something out for me. They were being nosey, and I only meant to redirect their attention, but they actually found something." Malfoy looked nervously around him. "I don't want to say too much now. And I don't want to get your hopes up. But, mother, it would mean they couldn't hurt you anymore. Not in their usual way at least. It would make it easier for you. Until I finish my task."

Malfoy seemed to realize he was rambling, and stopped abruptly, waiting for his mother to respond.

"Draco," She sounded resigned, but there was a dangerous note behind it "I did not ever say I was not being treated well." However, as Hermione looked at the women's face more closely, she saw the signs of injuries, the women really hadn't needed to say anything. Her face was drawn, and Hermione thought she might even be able to see a bruise or two under fading glamour spells.

"Relief would be welcome, however..." she looked directly at Malfoy "you are not to shirk your task for my benefit. Only one thing matters now, and you know what that is."

Malfoy began to argue, but his mother quickly cut him off. "I do not have much time, and I do not wish to spend it fighting with you. I am glad to see you are safe my son. Continue to stay that way."

Lowering his head, Malfoy said something too soft for them to hear from outside the window, but his mom's eyes seemed to grow even more pained than before. "We will survive. We are Malfoys." She stated this as though it meant everything in the world, and, to them maybe it did.

Before Malfoy could respond to his mother’s statements Hermione heard her say, "Draco, I must go." And with a pop she was gone.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood silently at the window as Malfoy left the house, moved back up the street towards the main road, and, presumably, Hogwarts. Once he was out of sight Hermione shook herself slightly.

"Come on, let's get back."

The other two followed wordlessly, all three of them lost in their own thoughts. She was sure Harry and Ron were thinking about the task that Malfoy had that seemed to be so important.

But, Hermione was thinking about his mother and their potion. Was she really being tortured to motivate him? She wouldn't put it past Voldemort and the Death Eaters of course, she wouldn't put anything past them. But it was difficult to see the desperate pain that both of the Malfoy's had obviously experienced during their short conversation. If Voldemort treated his own followers that way, why would anyone want to join him? More questions she simply didn't have the answer to.

Dinner was a quiet affair. There was only one thing the three of them wanted to talk about, but they couldn't do so with so many people around. They ate quickly and went to the common room, waiting for it to empty. Ron and Harry played chess, while Hermione worked on the potion list. She felt a new sense of urgency. Even more than wanting to not work with Malfoy anymore, now that she knew he didn't have any nefarious purpose, she felt less trepidation about sharing the information with him. It didn't take her long to complete the list, and after a quick trip to the owlery, she hurried back into the common room just before curfew. In addition to the list she had written a note, "I would like to finish this sooner, rather than later. Tell me when you can meet" Figuring the school owl was inconspicuous enough, and Malfoy good enough at lying, she sent the list and note off, even though she did not know if there would be others around Malfoy when he received it.

After waiting until they had enough space around them to talk without being overheard, and then talking much too late into the night Harry, Hermione, and Ron had come to a few conclusions.

First, Malfoy definitely was up to something sinister - though, Hermione insisted, they had not confirmed that the task had been set by Voldemort. Second, they still had no proof that Malfoy was a Death Eater. And third, Death Eater or not, no one deserved to have their mother tortured as motivation - though, Ron pointed out, and Harry agreed, all of the Malfoy's had made their own decisions and gotten themselves into the situation they seemed to be in now. In other words, notwithstanding how shocking the conversation between Malfoy and his mother had been, they hadn't really learned much.

Despite the lack of conclusions, or maybe because of it, Hermione went to bed that night with her head spinning. The most confusing thing had been seeing Malfoy act so… human. Harry and Ron seemed to have been able to dismiss it a little more easily. Content with the reasoning that he had willingly joined up with the Death Eaters, and what else could they really expect. But Hermione kept seeing the pain in Mrs. Malfoy's eyes, Malfoy's slouched shoulders, voice too soft to hear. This Malfoy was a completely different Malfoy than the one that took every opportunity to humiliate her, that seemed to barely be able to stand to be in the same room with her... She just couldn't combine the two in her mind.

Walking into her dorm she saw Lavender and Parvati fast asleep already, and an eagle owl at the window. Rushing over she let the beautiful bird in again and pulled off the note attached to her leg. Hermione absently stroked the owl's head as she looked down to see Draco's small, precise writing.

"Tomorrow, after dinner, same place."

The owl had begun snuggling up into her hand and Hermione almost laughed in surprise. Who would have guessed Malfoy would have such a friendly owl. With an extra scratch on the back of its head, Hermione gently let the owl out of the window and off to hunt for the night. Throwing Malfoy's note into the bin, Hermione got ready for bed in record time, but once there, lay with her spinning thoughts for much too long. 


	13. Chapter 13

Before he knew it Draco was sitting in the old potions room waiting for Granger. What a strange year this was turning out to be. Avoiding his friends so they wouldn't get suspicious, and willingly working with the queen of mudbloods - though also to help avoid suspicion. He had been able to speak to his mother, and, although it had been a relief to see her, she had looked so… frail? Weak? He would never have thought of describing the force that was his mother this way before, but now... he just needed to get this potion to work. And he needed to finish his task. Then everything would be better.

Well, his father would still be in Azkaban but… that might be for the better. Though Draco would never admit it. Malfoy rather thought his father had been beginning to stray from the path the past year or so. His father's fervor and belief had been directed towards the Dark Lord, more so than their actual goals. Looking for approval from their leader had been blinding him to the best way to meet their goals. Abolishing the statute of secrecy, ruling the muggles - that was the point. Not wanton destruction of property, pointless murder.

Sure, destruction, and even sometimes murder had its place - it was all for the greater good after all - but the moves must be politically advantageous. If the Dark Lord wanted to rule a certain amount of fear was fine - but, well, to Draco it seemed that the fear should be balanced by at least a little respect. Grudging respect was fine. But the Order seemed to think of the Dark Lord as simply deranged. And if that spread… Well, no one wanted to follow a mad man.

Absently Malfoy had pulled out Hermione's list of ingredients. It was ridiculously thorough, of course. He had expected it, but it was still interesting to see the product of that hopped-up, eager mind. Ten pages of ingredients separated first by effect, then alphabetically. Each with a description of its effects, as well as possible side effects. He had no doubt the answer was in here, but, unfortunately, he could not begin until Granger got here. Whatever she had spelled those papers with had worked annoyingly well. He knew only what they had discussed of the potion before he had seen the sheets.

Finally Hermione opened the door, looking like she had run the entire way there. Panting she began pulling out the papers. Malfoy just cocked an eyebrow. This girl always seemed just slightly out of sorts.

Hermione noticed his raised eyebrow and interpreting it correctly simply said "Harry and Ron." without further explanation. Malfoy thought that was rather explanation enough for anyone to be frazzled and let the subject drop.

Quickly grabbing the pages Hermione had just taken out of her bag he immediately got to work.

"Malfoy." Hermione was still standing in front of him, hands on her hips like she was about to tell him off for something.

Rolling his eyes he looked back at her keeping his face as neutral as possible. The sooner she lectured him on whatever issue she seemed to have the sooner he could get this potion done and to his mother. She seemed a little thrown off by his willingness to listen, but apparently not enough to prevent her from speaking as intended.

"Malfoy. I may be a mudblood," Again, using that word like she had any idea what it meant, he shook his head slightly, but she just continued "but I am the top student in our grade. I am smart." She stopped after saying this like her point had been made, but Malfoy, who had no idea why she was saying this simply stared.

Hermione sighed angrily at his lack of reaction "Malfoy, I can help! Merlin, I’m the one that realized the potential of this potion in the first place! I can do more than deliver ingredient lists."

"Why?" Malfoy hadn't quite meant to say that, but he couldn't seem to think of anything else to say, and Granger had clearly been waiting for a response. She seemed confused by his question.

He reiterated; "Why, Granger, are you offering to help me?"

"Oh! Well, I mean…" Floundering, she started to blush slightly. What was going on with her? It had been a simple question - but she was embarrassed that she didn't have an answer or an answer she wanted to give him at least. He rolled his eyes, she was trying to 'save' him. Of course. Offer help, show him the error of his ways. How annoying. But, she probably would be helpful, just as someone to bounce ideas off of if nothing else. He was about to say so when Hermione seemed to find her tongue again.

"There are plenty of people who could be helped by this potion." Malfoy looked up quickly - she couldn't know about his mother. But, she continued "It would make a huge difference if those fighting against Voldemort did not have to worry about the cruciatus curse."

That was very true, though Malfoy sensed she still had ulterior motives, he wouldn't turn down her assistance. Not if it meant finishing this sooner.

"Ok, sit down, and let me explain what we need," Malfoy said this with as much scorn and impatience as possible, but Hermione did not seem to mind as she sat in front of him and waited eagerly to hear what he had to say. She seemed unable to resist learning - no matter who was doing the teaching.

It only took Malfoy a few minutes to explain what he was doing, and then Hermione had jumped to the task with gusto. Potions were touchy, and there were many things to consider. You couldn't just take one ingredient out and replace it with another - the complex interaction of all of the steps had to be taken into account. The two of them went through the list Hermione had written, pointing out possible benefits and possible drawbacks to each one.

Two hours later they had exhausted the original list and had a new, much smaller, list of a few ingredients that would possibly work. Unfortunately, now the only thing to do was test them out. They had intentionally left off any that might have a lethal effect. But, this potion was cruel. Its intended use was horrible. Draco's main goal was to be to counteract that, while still leaving the numbing effect.

"Ok, Granger, we will go systematically, brew one, have an elf try it, and then see how it works, but we have to wait a day or two; a couple of the ingredients will be difficult to obtain, even for me." Malfoy hadn't noticed, but Hermione had frozen sometime while he was talking and she looked furious.

"Do you. Have any idea. How dangerous this potion is?" Hermione was positively shaking.

"Yes Granger, I am aware that the potion that was not only in the restricted section, but also coded to be even more difficult to find, and that has now been modified by a couple of students is dangerous." He thought the sarcasm may have been a little heavy handed, but she didn't even seem like she was listening.

"And you would force a sentient creature, with no choice in the matter to take this potion?" Hermione's voice was low and dangerous. Malfoy remembered that she had had an issue with house elves before, an image flashed through his head of her proudly wearing a badge that said S.P.E.W. and he had to fight to keep his mouth from twitching.

"Alright then, what do you suggest? Who is going to willingly ingest this ridiculously cruel and dangerously modified potion, potentially many times over until we get it right?" Malfoy thought he had her there, but she didn't even hesitate.

"Us."

"Um, no Granger, I will not risk my life over this"

"But you'll risk the life of another?!"

"It is not the same thing, and you know it. You said yourself you're a smart witch, the elves like it. They want to help."

"No."

Malfoy just stared at her, "No?"

"No. I won't allow it." Hermione had her arms crossed and a determined look on her face. But Malfoy had faced much worse than a teenage girl with a chip on her shoulder.

"Too bad, because I am not about to take an untested potion. Period."

Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously. Briefly remembering the last time Hermione had turned her wand on him, he had to fight the impulse to pull his first. Then, just as quickly as her anger appeared, it disappeared.

"Okay, that's fine." She started gathering her things, putting them away. "You are right, we will need to wait a couple of days for the rest of the ingredients. Can you owl me when you have them all?"

Malfoy stared at her, what had just happened?

Hermione sighed, seeing his reaction, or, lack thereof "Malfoy, I'm not going to force a house elf to take an unknown potion, I'm not going to force you either. I will take them." Malfoy laughed, she had to be kidding, but she looked deadly serious and his laugh faltered.

"You're joking, right?"

"No. I’m not. I will take them, I will be better able to describe the results anyway." Hermione lifted her chin and looked Malfoy straight in the eye "What is the point in having principles if you are not willing to act on them when necessary?" With that, she turned and left the room.

Holy. Balls. This girl was definitely crazy. Or stupid. Or both. Either way, he couldn't help but like her, just a little bit, after that. He was a Malfoy, after all, and Malfoy's were taught to follow power. Hermione hadn't yelled to get his attention, she hadn't cried to get his pity. She hadn't begged him to change his mind. But that was it, wasn't it? She hadn't even tried to get him to agree - she just made a decision.

Malfoy was not used to his opinion and preferences being ignored. He didn't work  _with_  people, he directed them. And they followed. That was simply how his life worked. And here Hermione was, not even… caring if she went against him. In fact, Malfoy thought, she probably enjoyed it. She did not have political power, she was not an important person at all. But she acted like Malfoy's opinion meant nothing. Of course, to a mudblood it wouldn't. But usually, the people that didn't like him or agree with him still feared him. Even Potter didn't want to face him alone.

But, Granger actually had faced him alone before. And she had definitely won. Somehow this witch cared nothing for his power, was not trying to impress him or his family, and had no reason to be scared of him personally.

It was… refreshing actually. Malfoy laughed softly to himself, slowly gathering his things and making his way back to the Slytherin dorm. He stopped in the common room on his way, but, tonight even more than usual, he found Pansy's simpering, and Crabbe and Goyle's attentiveness unbearable.

Laying in his four-poster, trying to sleep, Malfoy's mind seemed determined to stick on Granger. Of course, he had not been sleeping well already, but this was even more annoying. Taking his usual tact when he was having a particularly hard time sleeping, he lay back to distract himself fully. Reaching to pull down his silk green pajamas he directed his mind to thoughts of witches, of time spent with Pansy when her mouth had been too occupied to speak.

Eventually satiated, Malfoy laid back on his side, already drifting into sleep. Malfoy's last barely-formed thought before drifting to sleep was that it was quite unfortunate that the only person he had found that may actually challenge him, was a mudblood.


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione had left the classroom earlier that night determined, but now she simply felt nauseous. No matter how much she thought about it, she could not think of any other way. She wasn't surprised Malfoy had wanted to test the potion on a house elf. Ron would probably even agree with him. Most pureblood wizards would. But that didn't matter. There was no way she would let a house elf take an untested potion like this for her. It was barbaric. She would test the potions. She would willingly take a potion that Malfoy brewed, that could kill her, paralyze her in fear, any number of things really. But they needed this potion. And, strange as it seemed, she actually trusted Malfoy - with the potion at least.

She knew Malfoy's reasons. He wanted this potion probably even more than she did. He wasn't going to delay it just to mess with her. She hoped. Oh well, there really wasn't much for it if they actually wanted the potion. Hermione would just have to wait, make sure everything was brewed correctly, and hope for the best. With Malfoy.

Crazy doesn't even begin to cover it.

Hermione had thought about telling Harry and Ron again. This time so that she could have someone there to watch her back at least while she took the potions, but, they would only try to stop her, and no doubt try to fight Malfoy for being willing to do it. Hermione had no doubt Malfoy would do this. Just as he always said Gryffindors were so predictable in their need to help, Slytherins were just as predicable in their need to succeed, or whatever you want to call it - ambition? That was what the sorting hat had said.

Although she hated to admit it, part of her was letting her guard down around that Slytherin. Never so much that she didn't always have her wand in easy reach. But, when he was working, or they were discussing the potion, he was almost like he was just another student. 

Hermione had been thinking more and more about the sorting hat and the houses lately. She knew she had Gryffindor qualities, but largely because her Gryffindor friends encouraged them. On the surface, she was much more of a Ravenclaw, and she wondered how different she would be if she had been sorted into the house with the easier fit. Malfoy too, when he wasn't being a royal pain, seemed much more like a Ravenclaw. He seemed to like the challenge the potion had presented him. And, he wasn't just working to find an answer, he explored all avenues. If something didn't make sense, he took the time to figure it out - even if it wasn't necessary. He liked to learn. And, maybe if he had been put into Ravenclaw instead… Well, maybe it wouldn't have changed anything, Death Eater father and all. But it was interesting to think about.

No, Hermione was scared to take the potion - because it was a dangerous and frankly, reckless, thing to do. But she was not scared about the fact that it would be Malfoy there with her. Besides herself, Malfoy was the smartest in their class, Hermione was actually glad he would be there. Ha! Hermione surprised herself with that thought, but, she had to admit it was true. She had the answer to another one of her questions - Malfoy really was that smart. Now if she could only figure out why he could buy into such stupid beliefs...

It wasn't until Friday night two weeks later that Hermione heard back from Malfoy. The last two weeks had been spent like any other week, and Hermione had been trying, largely without success, to not think of the impending testing of their potion. Eventually she had started to worry that Malfoy had given up, and though half of her was relieved, she was planning on confronting him about it the next time she saw him alone. Harry and Ron had even noticed that she was more distracted than usual, but, didn't pry too far. Hermione's explanation that she was just feeling a bit behind on work had seemed to appease them, and she had redoubled her efforts to keep her mind off of the things she couldn't control.

It was late enough that there were only a few people left in the common room, even on a weekend night. Harry and Ron had gone upstairs only 15 minutes before, and Hermione was putting the finishing touches on a transfiguration essay before heading off to bed herself. That is, until she was distracted by a tapping at the window, and started, almost dropping her ink all over the tabletop. Walking to the window as quickly as possible she opened it to let Malfoy's large owl into the room. Quickly walking back to her previous spot she set the bird on her armrest while pulling off the note.

"I have everything. Meet me in the room. Now."

Now? How could she leave now? She checked her watch - it was almost 2:00 in the morning. She had no way to get all the way to the dungeons, especially not without Harry's cloak or map.

"Hermione, whose owl is that? She’s gorgeous!" Hermione had forgotten that Ginny was one of the few still up. She had wandered over from where she had been sitting with her friends and was giving Hermione a questioning look while approaching the owl. Ginny held her hand out cautiously to the bird and it immediately moved over to rub its head on the outstretched fingers. Ginny giggled and moved closer.

"Oh, she's, uh, no ones..." Hermione blushed at her stutter and Ginny shot her an amused look. Obviously. No one would buy that, but she was not good at lying, and even with more time to think Hermione would not have had any idea how to explain an owl arriving for her in the middle of the night.

Ginny was looking intently at the bird, and she let out a small gasp when her eyes traveled to its legs. She had noticed the band around its leg and Hermione cringed. There was probably only one person they knew that would have something like that on their owl - why did Malfoy have to be so obviously Slytherin? Ginny looked up at Hermione, eyes big, and obviously full of questions. Hermione attempted to forestall her, holding up a hand. She wasn't good at lying, so she would just have to tell the truth, at least some of it.

"Yes, this is Malfoy's owl," Ginny's eyes got even bigger, if that were possible. "I'm working with him. And, yes, I know that is crazy. It's just, I’m developing a potion that could really help the Order, and he is the only one who knows potions well enough to help. Well, except Snape, but, well, at least you know Malfoy's a git, right? Who knows where Snape stands half the time." Hermione paused, hoping her whispered and rushed explanation had been enough.

Ginny seemed thoughtful. Her time with Fred and George had definitely opened her mind to thinking outside the box. "Look, Hermione, I won't push, I know you guys have things you are working on." Hermione tried not to cringe as she let Ginny think that Harry and Ron knew about this too "But, well, Really? Malfoy?"

Hermione laughed. Trust Ginny to take it in stride. "He's not as bad as you think."

Ginny only raised her eyebrows

"Well, ok, yes he is. But he is actually really smart. If he weren't helping this would be taking me ages longer."

"But why is he helping? What is he getting out of this? Smart or not I can't see Malfoy helping out of the goodness of his heart." Ginny quirked her mouth into a half smile that Hermione found difficult not to mirror.

"No, no, he would not do that." Hermione reached down to stroke the owl lightly as she spoke "He has his reasons, and he is getting something out of it, but... Well, I really can't go into it." Hermione looked apologetically at her friend. She hated keeping things from Ginny as much as Harry and Ron. But, there was thinking outside the box and then there was, well, actually helping Draco Malfoy. Which is what she realized with a shock is what she was actually doing. Ginny looked disappointed, but true to her word, didn't push.

"Ok Hermione, I trust you to know what you're doing. Be safe though, kay? And, let me know if you ever want me to send a bat boogie hex his way." Hermione laughed, remembering the hexes she had, not that long ago, directed at Malfoy, and how he had looked tripping over himself. Bat boogies may be even better.

"I will remember that. Thanks, Ginny. Really"

"When this is all over I better get all the gory details!" The redhead said over her shoulder, walking back to her small group of friends by the fire. 

One crisis averted but Hermione still had to figure out how she was supposed to get down to the dungeons this late at night.

Of course, she had a contingency plan. She knew she couldn't always just rely on Harry to be there, but she didn't like it. She had only cast the spell on herself once successfully. But, desperate times and all that...

Packing up her bag, and heading to her room Hermione dropped her bag on her bed unceremoniously and looked around. Parvati and Lavender were sound asleep again. When did these girls ever get any homework done?

Taking a deep breath she cast a disillusionment charm on herself. Gods, she was sure she would never get used to that feeling. Like ice water down her spine - and she was sure the effect was worse when she did it on herself.  After a quick look in the mirror to make sure it had worked well enough she headed through the common room, out the portrait hole, and into the hallway. The fat lady seemed to be used to being opened by invisible people by now, as she glared out at the hallway, but refrained from saying anything.

Hermione wondered briefly if Harry and Ron were sneaking out without her, but, then again, she didn't really have any room to complain there, considering what she was doing. Shuffling along and keeping to the shadows as much as possible Hermione made her way to the cold dungeons.

Her disillusionment charm wasn't nearly as infallible as the cloak, and there was a close call where she thought McGonagall, who was out patrolling, may have seen the slight shimmer around her outline. Hermione held her breath, not daring to move, but after a minute or two the professor simply moved on, though with more narrowed eyes.

Taking a deep breath Hermione walked into what she was quickly starting to think of as 'her' potions room and shut the door behind her. Taking a moment to laugh at Malfoy's confused expression, she cast the counter charm to make herself visible again.

"You can cast a disillusionment charm?" Malfoy sounded half incredulous and half disappointed at the reminder of her skill.

Hermione knew it was advanced, possibly she was the only student here that could cast one, many fully trained witches and wizards couldn't. She merely raised her eyebrow - a look she realized she must be picking up from Malfoy. He picked up on her meaning and turned back to the cauldron he had prepared in front of him, grumbling under his breath. He had the ingredients laid out in front of him, but clearly was waiting for her so that he could remember what he was actually supposed to do with them. Hermione pulled out the paper and they looked at it together on the table.

Malfoy cleared his throat uncomfortably, causing Hermione to start and look up at him. They had been leaning in to read the parchment and standing up, Hermione realized she was much too close for comfort. Taking a quick step back she saw something flash across Malfoy's face, but it was gone too soon to interpret.

"Herm… Granger" He cleared his throat again, obviously very uncomfortable "There's still one ingredient we need. If you insist on being the one to test this - well, we need your... We need your tears." Seemingly very relieved to have said what he was trying to say, he looked back at Hermione almost weary.

"Oh," Hermione laughed "Why in the world do tears make you so uncomfortable?"

Shaking her head she dug into her bag, searching for the vile she had placed there earlier. She knew they needed this, and certainly had not wanted to try to cry on command in front of Malfoy.

"I mean, it's not like you haven't been the cause of many people crying, you would think you would be used to them." She had meant to come across as unconcerned about the matter, but, there was an edge to her voice she hadn't intended. Taking a second longer than necessary she straightened up, holding the vial out to Malfoy.

She had expected him to scoff, or laugh, or maybe even be angry, but he looked… Well, really he looked confused more than anything.

"You didn't know you made people cry, Malfoy?"

"No, of course I know that. It's just... Generally, people are not quite so, nonchalant about the fact. And, typically they run away before the crying actually starts anyway."

Hermione just laughed, what else was there for this conversation?

"Well, don't worry Malfoy, it's been years since I have cared enough about what other people think for you to be able to make me cry." She shook her hand that was still holding the vile out in between them.

Malfoy looked at it but still hesitated "Those can't just be regular tears Granger. They have to be from something emotional. Something like me making you cry, not you stubbing your toe." He was back to his straightforward self, and did not seem the least bit uncomfortable about the thought of making her cry anymore. 

Hermione stiffened a little bit but fought to keep her face straight, "Yes Malfoy. I know."

She shook the vial in front of them again and he finally took it from her.

She had gotten the tears a few days ago. After making sure she was alone in her dorm room it had been a simple matter. There was more than enough going on lately to cause pain; her loss of prefect status, being on the brink of war, hell, her frustration at Dumbledore and his seemingly endless parade of memories turned riddles. It hadn't been difficult to let her emotions overwhelm her long enough to get a sample for the potion.

Malfoy was busying himself with lighting the fire underneath their cauldron and Hermione looked down at the parchment with their new potion on it. It wasn't really necessary to look, she had it practically memorized, but this was not a time to get cocky.

"So, If we do everything right, this will take about four hours to brew. We are lucky really, that it is such a quick potion. But, there is no simmering, no letting it sit, we will be working the whole time." Hermione paused for a second looking over at Malfoy, he still looked unaccountably worn-down this close up. "We can take turns if you want to sleep…"

Malfoy just glared, she hadn't really expected him to accept. It was ridiculous how often Malfoy seemed to be able to communicate with his eyes rather than his words. But, as all he was typically communicating was annoyance Hermione figured it made sense.

"Alright." She looked back at him, squaring her shoulders "Ready?"

A quick nod from Malfoy and they were off.


	15. Chapter 15

And it was a complete disaster. Not their working together, surprisingly. No, this was a different problem

“It is completely congealed…”

“Well spotted Granger – no wonder you are top of the class.”

The potion in the cauldron in front of them looked like milk left out much, much too long.

“Was it the temperature?”

“No, that would have changed the color, not consistency.”

“The pixie dust must stabilize it. We need to leave some in.”

Draco vanished to potion with the same muttered spell Snape had used on Harry’s cauldron a number of times and straightened his back “Begin again.”

And they did. They brewed the potion three different times before finally getting a usable final product. Though the second time they had been cut short half way through when the potion has melted through the bottom of Draco’s cauldron.

Through it all only a handful of words had been spoken, they finished their last attempt right on schedule. At the end of the four hours Hermione and Malfoy looked at each other. Both grinning widely at their accomplishment.

Hermione had been worried that they would butt heads while brewing together, which would have been potentially disastrous with the tight timing of this potion. Especially given the possible frustration at their early failures, but, they worked together almost seamlessly, both of them enjoying the challenge. They both were aware of what needed to be done, and what the other person was doing, and so by the time Hermione finished one ingredient, Malfoy was starting on another. They were both efficient and precise – especially by their latest attempt and it was oddly thrilling. The quick pace they were working at kept Hermione awake despite the late night, and Malfoy didn't falter once.

"We did it." Hermione collapsed back in a chair and slouched low in the seat to stretch her sore back.

"Of course we did it." Malfoy said smugly, keeping the smile on his face, and it seemed almost as though he were praising Hermione's work as well as his own.

Hermione grinned back at him, happy to share in what they had just done. As soon as he saw this, the smile was erased from his face and he turned back to the potion. 

Hermione's smile faltered, so much for working well together, "Well, I um, I guess it is time to see if it worked, right?" And she slowly stood up from her seat.

Malfoy balked slightly at the statement, "You really mean to go through with this. To take this potion. With me here? And no one else?" She could understand why he couldn't believe it, she was having a hard time believing it herself.

Hermione laughed lightly, trying not to let her nerves show "I don't think this is exactly the right time to get into a philosophical discussion about the mistreatment of house elves and their lack of rights" Malfoy looked like he almost wanted to laugh at that statement, but she pressed on. "Suffice it to say I will not subject any creature to act against their will. And certainly not to something that I am not willing to do myself."

Hermione took a deep breath, steeling herself further for what she was about to do. "I know that we don't have an antidote, but the potion should not last longer than thirty minutes, right? I can deal with anything for thirty minutes."

Though Malfoy clearly didn't agree, it seemed he wasn't about to argue with Hermione once she had her mind up. Not this time at least.

"Granger. You still didn't answer my question. Why are you trusting me? You're a smart witch - where is your backup?" Malfoy said this with a straight face. He was not joking about her needing back up, there was clearly truth behind what he said. She thought about all the times he had fought with her, Ron, and Harry. The spells he had used, the insults. 

The anxiety seemed to be making Hermione laugh more often than she usually would have, and unfortunately she couldn't make it stop, so she laughed a little before saying "I don't trust you Malfoy. I understand you."

She also had a tendency to speak without thinking when she got nervous.

Now it was Malfoy's time to laugh, but there was nothing pleasant about it. The air between them suddenly seemed very cold, like a winter breeze had blown in, though there were no windows in their dungeon retreat.

"There are a great many things you don't understand Granger. And I am certainly one of them." The spite was back in his voice, Hermione hadn't even realized that it had been gone before, but Malfoy had redoubled the contempt when saying her name. Always so superior, he couldn't just let things be, could he?

"For your information Malfoy, I know much more than you think."

Hermione stepped forward towards him, pointing a finger into his chest "Just because it is difficult for me to fathom how someone can hate people just because of how they were born does not mean I do not understand the world."

Another jab at Malfoy's chest "And I most certainly understand you. You are simple. Raised under a controlling father, following a path you had no choice but to take. And now that father is gone and you're acting on pure fear, pure adrenalin, trying to stay alive. Unwilling to admit you are in over your head. Cruel for the fun of it, cruel because it's what's expected of you. Cruel simply because you can be." Just paused, taking a breath, "No, you're not difficult to figure out at all."

As usual, Hermione's anger began to run out before he voice, and she attempted to soften her tone as she continued. "When was the last time you slept through the night Malfoy? The last time you weren't scared for your life, or the life of your mother?"

Malfoy's eyes flashed in anger and Hermione sealed her lips, waiting for what he would do, wand already in her hand, she had not meant to give away that she knew about his mother.

"Been watching me closely have you?" Malfoy's voice was lower and more dangerous than she had experienced before, but she had no trouble hearing what he said, despite the deceptive softness of it.

"I know you and your little friends have been following me. I also know that you haven't found out shite." His anger seemed to deepen even more as he stepped forward into her finger that was still pressed into his chest.

"I have made my own choices and I do not regret them. I am not some pawn being played by the Dark Lord or my father." He gave a chilling laugh "I am not some tragic would-be hero that simply fell into my circumstances. Sorry if that doesn't fit into your fairy tale world." He took another step forward, Hermione's hand was now practically pinned between the two of them, and she felt his hot breath on her face as he continued.

"I am cruel when I need to be. And I feel no remorse for my actions. Or my beliefs."

Hermione stood frozen, looking into the molten silver eyes that were much too close to hers. He meant what he said, that much was clear but… She just still couldn't understand. She couldn't square up the person in front of her proclaiming to uphold to such a violent, prejudiced system and the person she had just spent all night and morning with, working calmly. They had been so in sync while they worked, but he thought he was better than her? It didn't make sense.

\---

Malfoy stared right back into Hermione's wide brown eyes, bushy eyebrows raised in disbelief. She presumed too much. She had hit uncomfortably close with some of her statement. He had replied harshly, but, as he had said, he was cruel when he needed to be. And he could certainly be cruel to her. He had been many times. The fact that they were working towards a common goal at the moment did nothing to change that. He would not allow her to... what? Figure him out? Bond with him? Feel anything but contempt for him? No. None of that could happen. 

She was staring at him like a puzzle to be cracked, and he felt his anger fade. Despite her shortsightedness, this girl was possibly the most genuine person he had ever met. He still wasn't sure if he saw that as a good quality or not, but it seemed to fit her. She didn't hide or plot. She said what she felt and she acted according to her belief. It was refreshing. Refreshing to experience honestly - even if it was unfortunately directed at him. Looking into those big eyes that were trying to figure him out he felt himself begin to relax into the gaze.

This couldn't have lasted more than a couple seconds, but they both seemed to realize at the same time that they had been looking at each other for longer than any two people normally would - whatever their reasons had been - and they jumped apart. Hermione cleared her throat and Malfoy turned around to check on the potion.

"We have about twenty more minutes to use this before it goes bad."

Malfoy really didn't want to delay figuring out the potion, but, after their outburst, he was definitely not inclined to try to persuade Hermione to do it. Lucky for him he didn't have to.

Hermione stepped forward and ladled the potion into a conjured cup. Shooting Malfoy a quick, nervous look, she swallowed the whole thing down. They had written out a series of tests to perform to determine whether or not she could still feel pain, not wanting to jump right in with the Cruciatus. But the second Hermione swallowed she froze. There was a split second when they locked eyes again before Hermione’s body went stiff, and she collapsed onto the ground.


	16. Chapter 16

Draco ran over to where Hermione had fallen and bent down quickly to turn her over. She convulsed briefly, and then all movement stopped. The look on her face was one of pure horror. Malfoy had seen this look before. Right before the Dark Lord killed someone, or while their family was tortured in front of them. It was fear beyond what most people knew. Their modifications hadn't worked. Hermione was paralyzed in fear on the floor in front of him, and Malfoy had no idea what to do. Tears slowly started pouring out of her eyes, gliding down her face.

All thoughts of their recent argument gone from his mind Malfoy reached down and brushed the tears off of her stiff cheek. It was hard to even look at the fear in her face. Damn it, why hadn't she let them use an elf? What was the point of her passion and belief if this was all it got her. There was nothing to do, as Hermione had said earlier, there was no antidote. Malfoy would just have to hope that the potion really did wear off as quickly as they thought it would. They had both known that this was possible.

Trying to shut out the voice of his father, and frankly, his own inner voice, he gently reached down to pick Hermione up. He could feel her body shaking under the tension, could almost sense her fighting against the potion, trying to move. Walking the few steps to the wall, he sat down gently holding her in front of him between his legs. He was embarrassed by his actions for a moment, but it did not last long. Mudblood or not, no one deserved to suffer like this so needlessly. Not to mention that he had designed and brewed to potion that was doing this to her. There was sure to be many things wrong with Hermione emotionally once she was able to move again, the least he could do was help to prevent the physical pain she surely would get if he left her laying on the cold hard floor. Despite what she, or anyone else may think, he was not evil. Not quite. 

Draco leaned his own head back, gently guiding Hermione's head to rest on his chest, and laid his arms on either side of her. Not holding her exactly, but preventing her from falling to the side.

The next half hour was torture for Malfoy though surely nothing like what Hermione was going through. He could hear her shallow breath, as though her lungs were full of liquid and feel her heart beating like it was trying to escape. The trembling turned to shaking which got worse as time went on until he was forced to wrap his arms rightly around her so she didn't fall back onto the floor.

He was watching every second pass on his watch. The instant thirty minutes hit he would be running to get the first professor he could find, consequences be damned, but they had agreed to wait it out. He had to let that half hour pass or everything would be ruined.

Exactly twenty-seven minutes and thirteen seconds after Hermione took the potion, she suddenly stopped shaking. Malfoy quickly sat up, but before he had time to check to see if she was breathing, Hermione sat up herself, and took a deep breath, gasping for air like she had been drowning. She shuttered as she let the breath out and collapsed over her own knees, shaking again.

At first, Malfoy thought something had gone wrong - well, more wrong. But, then he heard her sobs and realized with a shock that Hermione was crying. She was sobbing, in his lap, and it was an entirely different story than when she had been there and unable move. Feeling exceptionally awkward Malfoy reached forward and pulled her back into his arms and against his chest again. Trying very hard not to let his brain actually think about what he was doing. 

He had expected her to fight him off, but she just leaned into him further. Despite what the girl in his arms thought of him, Malfoy did not like to think of himself as a bad person. And after what Hermione had been through, what he had helped put her through, he was not about to deny her whatever sort of comfort he could give.

Much more quickly that Malfoy had expected Hermione started to sit up and straighten her robes. Untangling himself he stood and walked a few steps away to look at the potion, giving her some privacy to compose herself.

"Well, that didn't work." Hermione gave a little watery laugh, though Malfoy found nothing funny about what she had just experienced.

"No. It did not." He responded simply, still not turning to face her. He did not want to be reminded of his failure, or of the fact that he had just been holding a sobbing mudblood on the floor.

"Um, well, it wasn't a complete loss." Malfoy turned slowly to look at her in amazement, how could that not be considered a complete loss? Something in his heart twinged when he saw her with a small smile on her face, despite her still-watery and red eyes. She looked at him, and he immediately turned again ignoring the feeling. Even though her eyes were red from crying, she seemed almost excited - though not in her usual over-bearing kind of way.

"I couldn't feel any pain." Malfoy's eyes rose immediately at that statement and she laughed again. How could she be laughing right now?

"Well, obviously, I felt pain." She paused, looking down, as she tried to collect herself - much more the reaction Malfoy had been expecting.

"But, that," she said gesturing to where they had been sitting on the floor "wasn't physical pain." She gave him another smile. It was weak, and wavered easily, though Hermione was clearly fighting to keep it up. It did not make Draco feel much better.

"I fell to the floor, and I didn't feel it." 

Malfoy had not known what to expect as she shook off the effects of the potion, but smiling, and excitement certainly wasn't it.

"Look, I'm going to leave this with you" She indicated the piece of parchment with the potion on it. "We can still meet together to work on it, but I basically have it memorized, I don't need it with me."

She looked at him straight on and Malfoy realized she was still shaking slightly "I don't think you will finish this without me now. Let's meet back here tomorrow night with some new ideas."

Hermione did not wait for an answer but quickly grabbed her bag and walked out the room, fumbling slightly with the doorknob on her way out. Malfoy thought he heard a sob before the door shut, but hearing nothing else, set about cleaning up the mess they had left.


	17. Chapter 17

It was now mid afternoon and Malfoy was able to walk carefully into his dorm, everyone else having left already, and try to get a couple of hours of sleep. Despite how tired he was he just could not get his mind to turn off. Malfoy could not seem to shake the feeling of Hermione in his arms. She had been so… vulnerable. That was something he was not used to - people being vulnerable around him. People were in top form around the Malfoys. He had never been in a position to give someone comfort like that and he was surprised at how much the interaction had affected him.

He hadn't realized he was missing it before, but this type of interaction with another person... It was calming. Despite the stressful circumstances. Like a balm on the burn that was his state of mind lately. So long as he didn't let himself think about the fact that Granger was a mudblood, it was quite a pleasant feeling. After tossing for more than a few minutes Malfoy fell asleep, arms wrapped around a spare pillow, trying not to think about why that position was so much more comfortable than it had been in the before.

\---

Hermione felt like she had held herself together pretty well after the effects of the potion wore off - well, after that first couple minutes of crying. But, the second she had been out of the room she had broken down again. Quickly casting a silencing charm on the door so Malfoy would not hear her. Deciding it was better to just get to her dorm and the privacy it afforded, she ran almost the entire way to her common room. Luckily it was fairly empty - most students out and about on a Saturday afternoon. Hermione sat in an armchair in the corner, staring out the window, abandoning her bed for the view the window in front of her was providing, and the calming warmth of the fire crackling merrily in the grate next to her.

It had been rainy lately, and the whole world seemed damp. The run to the dorms had done her good Hermione thought. Her tears had dried up, and the shaking in her hands had stilled. For the most part.

That had been, hands down, the worst thing she had ever experienced. Even with her vocabulary, she did not know of any words that could describe the absolute terror she had felt. That, combined with the helplessness of being unable to move... It was torture. Nothing less. Had Hermione been able to make any noise, she was sure she would have been screaming bloody murder. As it was, her throat still felt sore - she had been trying to scream out the entire time, and the muscles fighting against the potion had left her throat feeling tight and raw like she had been choked. All of her muscles felt weak actually. Her body had been physically fighting against the effects of the potion as much as her mind, she hadn't known that would happen.

She really thought they had gotten it figured out... She would leave most of the analysis to Malfoy, for a couple of hours at least. She needed some sleep. But first, she needed to calm down her brain. 

  
Possibly the weirdest thing about the entire day she thought had been how Malfoy had reacted. She had been conscious of her surroundings for the entire episode. And Malfoy had been down right sweet with her. Even after she woke up, before she could compose herself. He had held her, comforted her. It had been nice actually, having him comfort her, and knowing she would not have to answer to him or explain herself afterward.

And, she couldn't help but smile slightly, he had been surprisingly soft, physically. Despite how sharp he appeared. She chuckled under her breath, what a day - Malfoy was soft. Of all things to take away from the experience.

If she was honest with herself she knew she was just trying to think of anything to avoid thinking about how she had felt earlier. She knew it was something she would live with for the rest of her life. Already, thinking about it again, her hands began to tremble.

Hermione wrote a quick note to Harry and Ron, telling them she was feeling under the weather and had decided to stay in. She cast a quick spell, sent it up to wait by their door, and made her way to her common room. Falling into bed Hermione tried everything she could to keep from thinking about her experience with the potion. Nothing seemed to work. Eventually, her mind settled on the memory of sitting down in Draco's surprisingly gentle arms, and she was able to relax enough to fall into a restless sleep.

\---

When Hermione woke up it was late evening. At first, she was confused about why she was still in bed, but much too quickly her memories came rushing back to her. Shivering at the memory, Hermione slowly sat up in her bed, stretching out the kinks in her back. She started when she saw the owl at the window, apparently, she hadn't woken up naturally, the bird was rapping sharply on the glass pane. Quickly getting up and bringing the owl back to her bed Hermione read the note she had brought. 

"Midnight tonight. If you are up to it."

This was the first time Draco had not simply stated where and when they were to meet. Though still demanding, he had seemed to keep in mind how she was feeling. But, considering the state she had been in when they parted, well, Voldemort himself would be worried about her sanity.

Hermione turned the paper over and wrote: "See you then." Looking at the large owl as she tied the note back on her leg Hermione was struck at how familiar bird was beginning to seem. Usually, Hermione was a little skittish of strange birds, eyeing their talons and claws as she took her newspapers, but, she liked this one. She had proved herself to be friendly and calm, she even seemed to enjoy Hermione's touch under her chin. Taking her to the window Hermione watched the owl fly away, down, presumably, to the dungeon below.

Deciding it was past time to make an appearance Hermione headed out to the common room in search of Harry and Ron. She didn't have to go far, they were sitting at their usual table, actually working from the looks of it.

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she approached them, "I stay in bed for one day and you two start working on your own? I should have done this years ago."

They both looked up and smiled at her. Well, Harry smiled, Ron had more of a grimace really.

"If I don't finish this by Monday I’m toast. Why didn't you remind me about this paper?" Harry shot Ron a look, clearly thinking that was a little harsh considering Hermione had been sick. Giving Hermione a half-apologetic shrug Ron corrected himself "Right, how are you feeling?"

Hermione laughed "better now." she hoped this sounded sincere. She was better she guessed, but certainly not anywhere near good yet.

"I think I just needed some sleep." She pulled a chair out and sat down between the two boys "You’re really just starting the potions essay?"

They looked at her sheepishly and she laughed again looking at Harry's even more rumpled than usual hair, and Ron's slightly glazed eyes. She held out her hand "Alright, give them here."

Potions were becoming old hat to her now, and looking through their papers was a welcome distraction. Not too long later she was handing their papers back with her comments written in the margins.

Ron looked down at his paper, shaking his head at the number of marks “I feel bad for the poor first years that had you grading their papers."

Hermione punched him lightly "I can be less thorough if you would prefer. You'd get a lower grade of course," She paused thoughtfully, "it would probably be more believable…" Ron began to scoff but she only raised an eyebrow at his offended look.

"Ron, you know it is true" Harry was looking at his own heavily marked essay "If Hermione wasn't so thorough we probably would have failed out in our first year," He paused, reading some of her comments and sighed, "Especially potions"

Hermione just smiled and leaned back in her chair. She pulled a book out and opened it in front of her, but didn't read. She spent the next thirty minutes trying to figure out what her and Malfoy had done wrong with their potion. She had a few ideas, but, really, Malfoy understood the nuances much more than she did. He would be the one to come up with a solution. She hoped.

She was not looking forward to tonight and possibly having to take that potion again…

No, she did not want to think about that. She looked up at her friends, who seemed almost done rewriting their essays.

"Dinner?" She asked lightly, laughing at how quickly they complied, Harry immediately standing up and Ron quickly shoving the almost finished essay into his bag.

As Hermione had missed breakfast and lunch, she was starving. They sat down at the table and she began eating with a fervor usually only found with Ron. When Harry pointed this out to her she merely shrugged her shoulders in reply, mouth too full to reply, causing her friends to shake their heads.

"At least you seem to be feeling better,” laughed Ron.

"Someone else doesn't seem to be feeling too great," Harry gestured over to the Slytherin table. Malfoy had a plate of food in front of him, but he wasn't eating it. He only stared, head resting on his hand. "I wonder what could be making him so upset…"

"I don't really care what it is - I just love seeing him suffer" Ron was looking across the room with an ugly grin.

"It looks like whatever his task is, it's not going well." Harry said this with a satisfied smile, turning back to his food. He paused when he saw Hermione.

"Hermione, you sure you are alright?" Hermione had stopped eating. Her stomach suddenly felt uneasy all over again. Seeing Malfoy still so affected made her insides twist.

"Ya, I, um… Just ate too fast I think."

Harry and Ron seemed satisfied with her explanation and went back to eating, looking back at the despondent Malfoy with a smile every once in awhile.

Hermione managed to spend the rest of dinner pushing her food around on her plate, determinedly not looking up at Malfoy. When they got up to leave and were walking across the great hall she couldn't help herself. She shot a look in Malfoy's direction and was startled to find his eyes already trained on her. Their eyes locked and Malfoy quickly rearranged his face to his usual scowl, but Hermione just looked at him a second longer before following Harry and Ron through the doors. She would never get used to working with Malfoy.


	18. Chapter 18

When she got back to the common room Hermione told Harry and Ron that she was still feeling a little ill, and made her way down to her dorm room. She really was feeling a little ill, but of course, it had more to do with last night than with any sickness. She was drained, mentally and physically. But, it was better to get it over with all at once then drag it out. She still had a few more hours before she had to head down to the dungeon, and she tried to force herself to focus on some homework.

Though she wasn't working with the same concentration she usually did, the time passed fast enough. And before she knew it, it was time to go. Parvati and Lavender had come in about an hour before, and she had joined their conversation for a moment, but before long the conversation lost her interest and she turned back to her work.

Eventually, making sure her dorm-mates were asleep she cast a disillusionment charm once more and crept out of their room. Harry and Ron were still in the common room when she walked out. Heading straight for the portrait hole she had to make herself not linger to eavesdrop - they were probably discussing Malfoy's latest adventures.

As usual, she was happy to not be a part of that conversation, not just because it was tedious, but now because she was part of Malfoy’s plans. From their angle, they didn't have a clear view of the portrait hole, and Hermione opened it as little as possible before slipping out. Pausing for a second before closing it she breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't hear anyone get up to see why the door had opened seemingly of its own accord.

The path to the dungeons was quickly becoming familiar to Hermione, and she made it in record time, even after having to take a detour to avoid Ms. Norris prowling around the corridors. Taking a deep breath she straightened her shoulders before walking into the potions room. Malfoy was not there yet, so after casting off the disillusionment charm Hermione set about setting everything up again.

They would have to start from scratch, brewing the entire potion all over again. She was glad she had slept most of the day, but even so, she would be dead tired again tomorrow. Luckily it would only be Sunday, she could take tomorrow to recoup - assuming they got it right today. God, she hoped they got it right today.

Hermione glanced up as Malfoy walked in. He gave her a silent nod, and she did the same, returning to the cauldron.

"I know we haven't actually talked about what went wrong, but, I have a couple ideas, and I am sure you've got it all figured out as well," Hermione shot Malfoy a quick smile "So, I figured I might as well just start getting things ready."

Malfoy looked at Hermione for a second before responding, "I think I know what went wrong. But I am not positive. I will not be until it is tested again."

"I thought as much," Hermione pulled out their edited potion, "Show me what you think we should change, I made a few marks already, but if you can see anything I missed go ahead and fix it."

Malfoy seemed to hesitate, but walked slowly over to where she stood with the paper, looking down at her corrections he nodded "Yes, that's what I thought as well. We should try the next substitution on our list, but we also need to add in those counterclockwise turns to further encourage the different path we are trying to direct. You have it all." He looked back at her, but didn't say anything more, just watched as she continued to set up.

"Malfoy, is there a reason you are staring?" She did not look up as she said this, but out of the corner of her eye she could see him shake head, as though trying to clear it.

"I cannot believe you are ok doing this again. I know you’re a Gryffindor, but this… this is beyond the usual reckless. I guess it wasn't a mistake for the hat not to put you in Ravenclaw..." Hermione thought he sounded rather disappointed as he said this and she laughed but sobered quickly at the serious look on his face.

"Look." She set down the knife she had been using to chop up some roots. "I get it. Believe me. I get it. I lived it… But we still need to figure this out. And, after experiencing yesterday I am even less likely to allow a house elf to step in for me. I will be fine."

He looked at her skeptically, obviously doubting her sanity, but didn't say anything in response.

"Ok, let me try this again - I am used too used to talking to Gryffindors." She looked at him curiously for a second, determining exactly the best way to get her point across "Last night was… The worst thing I have ever experienced." Malfoy stared on steadily as she continued "I would not wish that on anyone. Ever. It was every bit as cruel of a torture as the creators meant it to be."

Hermione had started shaking slightly again just thinking about it and clasped her hands in front of her to try to get them to stop. "I…"

Merlin, now her voice was cracking. Hermione cleared her throat and started again. "I know full what I am getting myself into tonight. But, progress takes sacrifice. I will not use an elf. You will not willingly subject yourself to an untested potion. So, to achieve this, to create this potentially ground breaking potion, I will do what I have to."

Draco seemed to be considering what she had said, though he didn't seem happy, he seemed to get the point a little better this time.

"And you know I will not take it myself because…?" Of course he wouldn't - but he wanted to see why she thought she wouldn't.

Hermione smiled "Maybe you are right, maybe I don't know you as well as I think. But I sure as hell know you are no Gryffindor. Besides, if it were up to you we would use an elf. Why would you sacrifice yourself when you don't feel like it is necessary?"

She made sure to say this very matter-of-factly. It was the truth, and she couldn't very well be upset at Malfoy for something one of her own best friends seemed to agree with. She still felt the same. But right now it didn't matter what she felt. To Malfoy, a house elf was a viable option, and like she had said, she wouldn't force him to do anything any more than she would a house elf.

Malfoy seemed surprised, though whether it was because of her accuracy or acceptance she wasn't sure. "For the record Granger, I would prefer that you did not take it either."

Hermione paused on her way up to pick her knife back up, and looked at him, trying to mirror his skeptical one-eyebrow raise.

He rolled his eyes in response, a small smirk on his face "Taking care of a witch sobbing on the floor isn't exactly my idea of a great night." taking up his own knife he began cutting ingredients next to her.

Hermione was sure he had meant to embarrass her by this statement, but it was almost as though he couldn't quite manage to put the derision he usually had in his voice while saying it. Or maybe she was imagining it. Either way, she knew how he had treated her last night. Although he was right that it certainly wasn't a great night, he had been careful and caring. Hermione had seen how distressed he had looked while taking care of her and had seen how he had been put off his food at dinner. No, he may have been upset about the events, but Hermione didn't think he had felt put out by having to take care of her.

\---

Before long they were brewing much as they had been the night before. Working around each other as though they could read each other's minds - though really they both just had an exceptional grasp of the potion. Even less was said tonight than the day before, and soon enough they had completed their newly adjusted potion.

Without discussion, they both turned and sat on the professor's desk in front of their cauldron to rest before proceeding - neither one of them particularly wanting to do what had to be done next.

In a very obvious attempt to stall Hermione turned to look at Malfoy "What is your owl's name?"

Surprised at the unexpected question Malfoy answered without hesitation "Aquila, I usually call her Quil."

"Ha, that's fitting. She is nice you know. Your owl."

"She is nice?" Malfoy was clearly fighting to keep a smile off his face, trying not to mock the damned or something like that she assumed.

Hermione smiled back, deciding to ignore the fact that Malfoy was about to laugh at her "Yes, Harry's owl is the only other owl I have met that likes to be stroked."

"You've been stroking my owl, Hermione?" Malfoy spoke without thinking, as though he had been talking to one of his peers in Slytherin, Hermione seemed surprised at his joke as well, but not offended as he had expected. He knew he was tired, but tired enough to joke with Granger, that was definitely a new level.

It had taken Hermione a second to get his double meaning, and she had already begun nodding in affirmation. Her surprised laughter at her own reaction caused Malfoy to finally laugh out loud.

Hermione covered her eyes, still laughing "God, I can't believe I didn’t get that. Usually, it's Ron that’s the slow one, not me"

"Well Granger, just don't forget, you're the one who agreed." Malfoy had narrowed his eyes, and deepened his voice in a poor imitation of seduction, making Granger uncomfortable had always been enjoyable - this was just another way to do that. He laughed even more as Hermione just shook her head, hand still covering her eyes.

"Yes." Hermione had finally moved her hand and set it in the small space between them on the desk, she turned to look at Malfoy, head cocked slightly to the side, wide eyes, feigning innocence. "But I’m not the one who thought of it."

She played a of chicken like this often with Harry and Ron, seeing who would get embarrassed first. And her nerves seemed to be overpowering her usual inhibition as she pushed forward. Malfoy seemed to catch on quickly enough - maybe everyone their age played this game?

Hermione's train of thought was quickly derailed as Malfoy suddenly lunged forward, which was impressive considering they were already sitting just a hand's width apart. Voice deep and slow, Malfoy was barely an inch away from her face, "Oh, but Granger… you know you've thought about too." Their eyes were lined up almost exactly, but he was not meeting hers, instead, they seemed to be trained on her lips.

Hermione was positively floundering, and her heart was racing. Half of her wanted nothing more than to just laugh and back up, taking the loss, but the other half desperately wanted to see how far Malfoy would take this. Thinking about how his breath had felt trailing across her lips Hermione had an idea.

Trying to ignore the odd fluttering that seemed to be circling around her stomach, Hermione leaning forward even more. Turning her head slightly so that there was barely a breath of air between her lips and Malfoy's ear, her cheek lightly brushing against his.

"And what if I have?" her words were less than a whisper, but Hermione knew he had heard her. His breath seemed to catch in his throat.

This certainly felt different than when she had played with Harry and Ron. The three of them were so close, and such good friends, completely comfortable around each other. But now Hermione felt suddenly nervous, waiting to see how Malfoy would respond. This was supposed to be a game, but right now it felt like it carried much more weight. Malfoy and Hermione were barely civil, and yet here she was leaning almost on top of him. She blamed her actions on her competitiveness, at least partly.

They had been frozen this way for much too long, but Hermione didn't know what to do but wait. Her heart was pounding. If she pulled away surely Malfoy would sense her embarrassment, and whatever else it was that she was feeling. And it was the whatever else she was feeling that she certainly did not want him to know, any more than she wanted to think about it herself. Despite the weight in her own chest, she had no idea what Malfoy was thinking.

She could feel the heat radiating off her checks, and was sure Malfoy could feel it too. The tension was unbearable, she had to do something.

Malfoy suddenly pulled away. Standing up in one smooth motion, he walked over to their potion. "Ha, you win."

Malfoy's voice sounded flat and he paused momentarily. Clearing his throat and shaking his head, when he spoke again he didn't sound nearly as off-balance as a second ago "I guess Gryffindor's aren't the prudes I always assumed them to be?"

Grateful she had had a second to pull herself together Hermione cleared her throat as a precaution herself "Yes, well, I seem to intimidate everyone in the common room except Ginny, so I am fairly used to winning. But Fred and George really are the masters. Surprisingly enough Ron is complete shit. I guess not all Weasleys are as bold as others."

She was rambling, and she knew it, but she really didn’t mind. Anything to avoid having to actually look at Malfoy. "Harry really sucks too, but, better than Ron. Just don't ever let Harry try it with Ginny, then all of the sudden he has all the balls in the word." Hermione rolled her eyes, remembering the last time they had played, Harry had been pulled back by Ron seconds before Hermione was sure he had been going to actually kiss Ginny.

Malfoy was looking at her with faux politeness, as though simply waiting for her to stop. Hermione finally paused and looked back at him. He was mostly composed, but Hermione was pretty sure there was more color that usual high in his checks and his hair had fallen loose around his face and he kept running his fingers through it, which he seemed not to have noticed yet.

Malfoy smirked at her as she cleared her throat again, realizing she had been dangerously close to staring.

"Yes," he said, looking her up and down slowly. He seemed to have gotten his confidence back now "It is difficult for me to find competition in my Slytherin peers as well. I am rather intimidating myself." He was looking at her sharply, as though trying to look through her, and Hermione found herself getting uncomfortable again.

Not wanting to risk starting another game, she quickly looked down to straighten her skirt, "Yes, well, we should get started."

Cringing slightly Hermione took a step towards the cauldron. She had almost forgotten what 'getting started' would entail, and was finding it hard to determine which would be worse; drinking the potion again or continuing this conversation with Malfoy.

But Malfoy had sobered considerably at her reminder and stepped forward as well. This time he ladled the potion into a cup and slowly held it out to her.

"When you're ready then." he looked searchingly into her eyes, but what he was looking for Hermione couldn't begin to fathom.

She pushed her trepidation aside as much as possible. When she took the cup from Malfoy's hand their fingers briefly touched. Swallowing, she put the small flutter in her stomach to nerves. Resting the cup to her lips she paused for a fraction of a second, then tossed her head back, gulping it down as quickly as possible.

Both of them waited with baited breath to see what would happen. One second, two seconds… and Hermione fell to the ground once more.


	19. Chapter 19

Malfoy was more prepared this time and was able to catch Hermione before she fully hit the floor. He searched her face again, looking for signs of the terror she had experienced yesterday. He couldn't find them though. Hermione couldn't move, that was for sure, but it appeared she wasn’t feeling the horror she had felt yesterday. A little panicky maybe, but that could just be a reaction to the paralysis. She tried to communicate to Malfoy that she was ok with just her eyes. She wasn't sure if it worked or not, but he didn’t seem quite as worried as yesterday.

He touched two fingers to her wrist and Hermione realized he was feeling her heart beat. Apparently whatever he felt was better than yesterday, because he looked back up at her with a look more curious than worried.

Hermione briefly wondered whether he would leave her on the dungeon floor now that he knew she wasn't experiencing the abject terror of last time, but, like the night before he gently picked her up and walked her over to the wall. He set them down in the same position as last night, leaning her head back against his chest, and resting his arms lightly next to her.

Hermione was surprised when after only a couple of minutes Malfoy got up and pushing her lightly and turned so she was leaning against the wall and not him. He repositioned himself so that he sat lightly in front of her.

Malfoy was holding up a knife to her eye line, his eyes questioning. Hermione panicked for a split second before remembering that this had been a part of their original plan. They had to see if she could still feel the pain - and she hadn't even fallen to the floor this time. They had tests to conduct.

"I know you can't say anything. And I seriously hope I am not interpreting this wrong. But you seem much better off than last night, so I'm going to proceed with our tests." He looked at her eyes closely "It will be… unfortunate if I am wrong. But I think you will understand either way."

Hermione would have rolled her eyes at his phrasing if she could have. Instead, she tried to tell Malfoy with her eyes that it was alright to go ahead, but she really had no idea how to go about that.

Malfoy was looking down already anyways, slowly lifting up one of her hands. He laid it flat, palm up inside his own. His hands were surprisingly rough for their slender appearance and gentle movements. But, Hermione was distracted from her thoughts quickly as he set the knife down, point first on the soft fleshy space just below her thumb.

She saw Malfoy take a deep breath before plunging forward with the knife, pulling a deep red slice through the center of her hand. Blood quickly poured out, dripping onto Malfoy's robes while he looked intently at Hermione's face, as though trying to determine if she felt anything.

Hermione had not felt any pain. It was creepy to see such a serious cut in her hand, and not feel the pain, but, she felt nothing more than if he had run a finger across her palm. Hermione was so excited at this development she could shout. Well, if she could move that is.

\---

Malfoy, of course, had no idea that Hermione was so happy with him slicing through her palm, and after leaving it only long enough for her to be sure, healed it quickly and cleanly with his wand.

That had been the easy part. Malfoy really didn't want to do this next part. Really, really didn't want to with her paralyzed. But Hermione had insisted on conducting the tests if at all possible. And, at the time it hadn't seemed like such a big deal to him.

Hermione had asked him what kind of pain the Cruciatus Curse was closest to, and the only thing he could think of was when he had broken his arm falling off a broom when he had been eight years old – intensified by about a thousand – but a similar burning, spreading pain. And so, she had told him to break one of her bones.

Of course.

But he was not about to do this unless he was sure the potion was working.

"Hermione, I am not going to do anything else unless I can be sure you are not feeling pain." He looked at her closely, studying her face. "last night, you looked absolutely terrified. I am not sure how you did it because you couldn't move then either, but I need some sign that the potion is working."

He paused, again looking at her closely. "Hermione, if you want me to keep going I need you to look terrified for me. Just so I know I am reading it right." and then he just sat and waited, staring at her face.

How did one make themselves look terrified when they were paralyzed? Hermione had no idea what to do, but she did want him to continue. She thought back to the night before, trying to remember exactly how she had felt. It wasn't difficult to bring back those feelings, they were still so fresh, and she was even paralyzed again. Before long she felt sure if she could have moved she would be shaking again, and she tried to put all of those feelings into her eyes.

It appeared to work. Malfoy seemed to instinctually grab her arm as though to steady her. After a few moments, the terror in her eyes faded, and they seemed wide and calm again.

Malfoy had no idea how she had done that without moving a muscle, but he had as clear of an answer as he was going to get. He scooted back a little bit, cringing at the undignified move. Clearing his throat Malfoy pulled out his wand but hesitated. Crabbe and Goyle had broken bones he was sure, many times at his command, but this was… different. Needless. He shook his head at Granger's stubbornness but, this is what she had wanted. Her bones broken when a house elf could be here in a second. 

Whispering the spell that would create a clean, quick break. Draco flinched as he heard the snap, and counted to five before quickly repairing it. He had not dared to look at Hermione's face this time. If she had felt that, he did not want to see the pain in her eyes again.

Their original plan had called for discussion here, then further testing but, as Hermione couldn't very well contribute Malfoy decided that had been enough for the night. Standing up Malfoy returned to his original position behind Hermione and leaned back against the wall once more.

He was watching the time like last night, but not with quite as much urgency. The slow breathing of the witch laying against him was relaxing, and he let his eyes close, just for a moment.

\---

Hermione came off the effects of the potion much more calmly than she had the night before. She had felt Malfoy fall asleep behind her about five minutes earlier and did not want to disturb him. Feeling her ability to move return, she flexed first her hand, and then her arm in turn, but they seemed fine. If she didn't know better she would have had no idea that they had been injured so recently, and she had felt no pain either time.  Hermione thought about getting up, but she was exhausted still from yesterday. She, really should though. She started thinking about how exactly she could get up without Malfoy noticing, but before she had made up her mind, she was fast asleep as well.

\---

Draco woke up slowly, which was rare for him. Usually, he was jolted awake by a nightmare, or an imagined intruder in the night, or someone giving him the news of his mother's death - never pleasant and always startling. He considered it suitably morbid for his current position in life. But Draco stayed still as he woke up this time, calm, and surprisingly refreshed.

He realized first that he was sitting on a cold stone floor, and second, that someone was laying against him. Hermione had not yet woken. In her sleep, she had turned so she was curled almost in a ball inside his arms.

It was not often that Malfoy did not know what to do, but he was at a complete loss here. How had he fallen asleep with Hermione in his arms? Further, how had she fallen asleep laying against him. Honestly, how had either of them fallen asleep at all? The floor was amazingly uncomfortable, and now that he was awake, Malfoy could not ignore the pain in both his legs, his ass, and his back from sitting on it for so long.

Slowly pulling out his wand from where it was lodged half under his leg, Malfoy cast as powerful a hovering charm as he could manage raising Hermione up a few feet. Standing slowly, and trying not to groan as his muscles protested the movement, Draco looked around for where to set the now hovering witch down.

For some reason it didn't seem quite right to put her back on the stone floor. But, he was using his wand to keep her in the air, so he couldn't conjure anything either. Shaking his head as he realized what he was about to do he took his cloak off, keeping his wand trained on Hermione and laid it on the floor before setting her down softly on top of it. She stirred, but did not wake.

Turning to go Malfoy looked around the room and hesitated. But, he had cleaned up yesterday after all, so he left the mess for Granger to find when she woke up.

Glancing at his watch Malfoy saw it was still early morning, so, tracing the same steps as yesterday, he made his way quietly back to his dorm for a few more hours of sleep.

But of course, he couldn't sleep. His mind was racing.

They had figured it out, they had really figured it out! Well, minus the paralysis, but Malfoy already had a pretty good idea of how to fix that. Soon he would be sending the potion to his mother, and that would be one less thing to worry about. He had still been working on the cabinet every night but was no closer than he had been before.

To actually accomplish something, to make this potion - God, it felt so good. After the messy business of this war was over with he could publish it even. Imagine, adapting such an advanced potion, so young. He smiled at the thought. And one with so many uses too. Of course, Hermione would want credit. He rolled his eyes at that, she would probably be a pretty good Slytherin herself if not for her blood status.

Malfoy's spirit dampened immediately, and it took him a second to realize why his heart suddenly felt so heavy. Last night Hermione had been just… Anther girl. He had joked with her, flirted with her even. And gods, did she flirt back… And then she had fallen asleep in his arms…

And it was just infuriating. What did she think she was playing at? He had been an absolute ass to her the last five years, he had made sure of it. And then she comes along, inserts herself into his life without so much as a thought, and treats him like they're the same. Like they were not enemies. He thought back to the feeling of her lips, dancing above his ears, her breath just barely a touch on his neck, her whispered tease "And what if I have?"

No! Gods.

Not that thought, and not that person. They were enemies damn it. As in, they were supposed to hate each other.

Enemies. That was a funny word. He didn't think of all mudbloods as enemies, just... lower on the totem poll. But Hermione was his enemy - or should be. Her and her friends were doing everything they could to bring down his cause. How could he have let himself be so relaxed around her, it was dangerous. Stupid.

But, then again, maybe it was an opportunity. Keep your enemies close and all that, Right?

Yes, he could use this. He would keep working with Hermione - even after they finished their potion - he would find some pretense to keep her around. Then he could keep tabs on Potter, and even the Order. Go behind enemy lines.

Yes. It was decided. He laid his head back again on his pillow in an attempt to find some sleep. As he lay there he couldn't keep his father's voice from circling around his brain,

"Yes, Slytherins are also quite good a rationalizing things they should not do... Unfortunate behavior."

His father had said this to him after he had caught Draco attempting to steal one of the journals in his office. Draco had tried to explain that he was only trying to be more informed.

Malfoy tried not to think about why he couldn't get that particular sentence out of his head.

\-----------

Hermione woke up very confused. Even once she remembered where she was, and why she was there, she couldn't figure out why she was lying on a cloak in the middle of the room when she distinctly remembered…

Oh shite.

She hadn't…

She had.

She had fallen asleep on Malfoy. He must have woken up before her and left, but… There was no way, no way that it was his cloak she was laying on.

It was.

It certainly smelled like him. She inhaled deeply, smiling at the smell and froze. A world where she knew what Draco Malfoy smelled like was not a world she ever thought she would live in. Slowly standing up, she twisted carefully from side to side, hearing her back pop too many times to be entirely safe. Looking around she began to feel a little more grounded, a world where Malfoy left her to clean everything up was definitely more normal.

Getting to work putting everything away Hermione could hardly contain her excitement. She was practically jumping from the cauldron to her bag and back. They had done it! They had a potion more powerful than any pain-blocking potion that existed. They still didn't know if it would block the cruciatus, but this was a huge step. 

She thought about presenting it to Dumbledore and practically skipped. So many people would be helped, and she had been the one to do it! Just think! She could be published "Youngest Potioneer Ever" That may be a stretch. But, right now she wasn't really in a state of mind to care. Malfoy would want credit of course, such a Slytherin. But thinking about Malfoy quickly brought more memories from last night to the forefront of her mind.

Gods, he had been almost human. Thinking back she remembered the feel of his breath on her lips and blushed deeply despite being alone. No wonder she knew what he smelled like, they had damn near kissed! Hermione paused in wiping up a spot on the table where the potion had bubbled over, getting slightly lost in her thoughts.

Nope. No, no no no no. That was not going to happen, she would not let her thoughts go there, that was for sure. 

She laughed out loud at herself as she resumed wiping the table. Draco Malfoy indeed. She often thought Harry and Ron went looking for trouble, what did last night say about her?

Hermione was quite sure Malfoy had been as affected by their game as she had been. Looking back it was easier to see his discomfort as well as her own. And he had even been the one to fall asleep first. Though she had stayed…

No matter. It was Malfoy. She would just have to act like it didn’t happen. Though the thought of seeing him again made her heart speed up noticeably, she only had to think about how he had acted for the last five years and it went quickly back to normal.

It was like he was two different people. She had thought it before, but it seemed even more on point now. He was Malfoy all the time. He was Draco when they were working on the potion. She would keep them separated in her mind. Comfortably hating Malfoy and cautiously enjoying Draco's company. That was the best she could do for now. Despite the fact that she had slept, she felt drained and quickly headed back up to her dorm.


	20. Chapter 20

True to his plan, once Malfoy woke up he sent Granger a note indicating that they should meet again before the end of the day. Malfoy considered that she might still be asleep, and he chuckled a little at the idea of her asleep in the center of a classroom in the middle of the day, it seemed - fitting. But, it didn’t' matter Aquila would find her, as she always did.

He called Quil to him with the charmed chain and sat to write a quick note to Granger. His owl arrived just as he finished, and he reached up to open the window high up on the wall, the only place that reached above ground in their dungeon rooms. She flew in and settled on his arm immediately rubbing her head against his chin for attention.

"You really are a needy bird, aren't you?" Malfoy pulled her down to place the note in her pouch. "Well, Hermione likes you well enough, go get attention from her." With a final pat on her head, he lifted her back up to the window and let her fly away.

Looking around he realized it must be pretty late in the morning - he had hoped to be able to grab some breakfast before the plates were cleared, and dashed out of his room. Rushing down the corridor and into the great hall he almost collided with Nott, who seemed to just be returning from breakfast.

"Oh great, there's still food then?" He looked at Nott as he walked quickly past, but the large boy merely scoffed and turned to walk down to the dungeons. Malfoy was momentarily stunned. Nott's father was in considerably less favor with the Dark Lord than his. Hell, Malfoy himself was a Death Eater. Not that Theo knew that for sure. But Nott was clearly trying to make a point, and Malfoy was not about to let it stand.

"Nott!" He yelled loudly enough that people would turn to look at them. He knew Nott would not turn away with an audience. Walking up to the boy, Malfoy made his annoyance clear on his face. "What do you think you're playing at?"

Malfoy's voice was low now - but it carried. More people were stopping to watch, eager to see a fight, but staying far enough away that they would, hopefully, not be caught in the cross hairs.

As much as Malfoy claimed to Granger that he was not cruel - he was dangerous. And he knew how to make that clear to those around him. Nott seemed to momentarily regret his slight, but he stood his ground. "What I am doing is no business of yours, Malfoy." To anyone else, a person as tall as Nott looming over them, with that anger in his voice… well, it would be enough to make them turn away. Malfoy was not anyone else.

"If I ask you, it is my business. And so I will ask you again. What do you think you're playing at?" Malfoy stared, and Nott stared back. The entire entrance hall was hushed, waiting to see who would take the next move.

Nott looked down at Malfoy’s pants, only partially shielded by his robes. He had not changed from last night, and Nott was surely taking in the sight of Hermione's blood dried on the pant’s leg

"It looks to me like you've been slipping lately, Malfoy," he said with a nod at the bloodied pants, "Slipping lower and lower until, eventually, you'll be right with your father and mother. Watching from the sidelines."

Malfoy took another step forward, his voice as sharp as a dagger. A few of the first years skittered into the safety of the great hall.

"You are playing a very dangerous game, Theo. One, I fear, that is more above your league than you realize."

Malfoy shot a pointed look at his left forearm. No one _knew_ he was a Death Eater, but there were rumors. And, in this situation, it was helpful to encourage them, to Nott at least. He would not have dissension in his ranks. And they were his ranks. His lackeys. As they had been since before school started. Nott was above Crabbe and Goyle, but apparently, he had begun biting at his lead as of late. Malfoy had not noticed, he had been distracted, but that wouldn't do.

Nott eyes had widened at Malfoy's glance, but he still stood his ground.

Casually Malfoy pulled out his wand, gently running it through is fingers.

Still staring at Nott, Malfoy took another small step forward, "Now then, that won't do at all, will it? Turn around. Walk back to the dorms. Or you might find that you start slipping yourself. Off your broom maybe. Or in the lake."

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow and waited, fortunately not for long. Nott shot him a glare, but turned obediently and walked down the corridor. Malfoy was sure that this was not the end of it though. Damn it, he had more important things to deal with than power hungry children causing drama.

Momentarily forgetting where he had been heading Malfoy turned, and his eyes were caught on the stairway. Once Nott had left, the crowd of students had dispersed, mostly to their respective common rooms, but on the stairs, one particular student was still standing and staring at him.

Of course, Granger had chosen this time to come get food as well. Turning sharply on his heal Malfoy growled in frustration as he made his way to breakfast. He was not sure why exactly it was so unpleasant to realize Granger had been watching his little confrontation.

She followed him into the hall seconds later but didn't look in his direction once. He tried to catch her eye as she walked out after eating, like yesterday, but she only looked straight forward, neck almost unnaturally stiff.

After a very unsatisfying breakfast, Malfoy began making his way down to the dungeons but paused before getting too far. He really did not want to deal with the aftermath of Nott's power trip right now. Better to let him simmer down first anyway. Thinking for a moment he turned and walked out the front steps to the lawn.

He hadn't brought his books to work on that stupid cabinet – like he probably should do, but maybe he could fly a little. He had not let himself all year. He hadn't been about to tell McGonagall that he planned to drop the team when she made that his detention, but he had. It was too much of a distraction.

The pitch was open to all students on the weekends unless it was close to a match. Sunday's thankfully were a little less crowded than Saturday's. Sunday was when everyone seemed to realize they actually had homework to do. Malfoy shook his head, he was falling behind on his homework as well but, it really didn't matter.

Walking to the locker rooms where he still kept his broom, Malfoy was grateful to find it empty. Taking his time, looking around the room that he had once been so happy to be in, he turned to walk onto the pitch.

Flying had truly been a fantastic idea. Draco had forgotten how much he loved to fly. The wind in his face, the death defying heights, the adrenalin pumping dives. Merlin, it felt good. There were a few other students on the pitch, but they stayed fairly low to the ground, and Draco preferred it high anyway.

Gaining height as quickly as possible, he stopped when the students flying below him were only tiny dots. If he could just stay up here all the time…

But, no. He shook his head. He was a part of something much too important to ignore. But, maybe, he'd let himself come up here a little more often.

Doing figure eights around the pitch, for the first time in as long as he could remember Draco's mind was clear.

\---

Hermione's head was spinning. She had been woken earlier than she would have liked by Malfoy's owl, Aquila, tapping at her window. In fact, that owl had been waking her up a lot lately, and she was beginning to suspect it wasn't entirely accidental. The note had been brief, simply saying that they should meet again today, but this time earlier, 4:00pm to be exact. Hermione agreed that they should meet again, and was grateful that she would not have another sleepless, or, partially sleepless night, as tomorrow was Monday.

But, their early meeting time only left her a few hours to finish up some last bits of homework. Knowing how much work she had waiting she headed quickly down to the great hall to stock on up on some food before what was sure to be another long day.

And, of course, she had to go at the exact time Malfoy was there. Fighting by the looks of it.

Walking onto the scene Hermione had been glad, perhaps for the first time ever, that she did not have the responsibilities of a prefect. That was one fight she did not want to get caught up in.

As she walked down the stairs Hermione sensed the quiet tension before she saw anything. The air had seemed thick, and no one was moving. Looking in the direction that everyone else was staring she saw the two Slytherins standing face to face.

She heard Malfoy's voice, low and dangerous, as she had only heard twice before.

"You are playing a very dangerous game. One, I fear, that is more above your league than you realize."

What surprised her more than his threat had been his pointed glance at his arm.

As Hermione had been coming down late, she was further back on the stairs than most of the other onlookers, and she was pretty sure only herself and Theodor Nott had seen the glance, but its meaning was unmistakable.

Hermione shuddered at the thought and almost missed the rest of the exchange. But her eyes were drawn to Malfoy's hands as he delicately twisted his wand around his long fingers. How could he make something so innocuous seem so dangerous? Every gentle touch against his wand had somehow communicated both malice and power. Hermione was momentarily transfixed.

When Nott finally turned his back and walked down the corridor Hermione couldn't seem to make herself turn away, even though she knew Malfoy would probably see her staring. Nott was obviously still mad, but he had obeyed Malfoy with just a look of complaint.

Hermione had known that Malfoy was a leader within the Slytherin group, but, that had been… unsettling. And the glance at his arm, could there really be a Dark Mark there?

Eventually unsticking herself from the stairs she slowly wandered into the great hall to get some food, mind still reeling, she barely noticed where she was going as she somehow managed to find a seat. She pulled some food towards her but didn't really care what.

The Malfoy she had just seen was every bit a Death Eater. But what disturbed her even more, was that she could see some of the Draco that she worked with in that Death Eater. The casual confidence, the deft hands, these were things she liked in Draco - and it was not pleasant to seem them in Malfoy the Death Eater.

So much for neat and tidy boxes. Hermione sighed and looked down. Realizing she had been eating a slice of toast without anything on it, she reached for some jam to spread on top. I need to be more careful she told herself. Even if he has been acting human with me, Draco is the same person as Malfoy. And that person was as dangerous as he was confusing.

Putting a few more pieces of toast in a napkin for later Hermione grabbed her bag and went outside on the lawn to work. She knew she should probably go back to the common room to be with Ron and Harry but, she really just wanted to be with her thoughts right now.

It was cold outside, but Hermione had prepared. Leaving gloves, hat, and scarf firmly in place, she put a drying spell on the ground under a beech tree by the lake. Sitting down she conjured one of her blue fires and settled into her homework.

Again, it was difficult for her to concentrate as she usually could with her mind swirling, but she made the best of it. The cold air kept her more focused and soon enough she was mostly absorbed in her work.


	21. Chapter 21

Finally getting out of the early winter weather to finish the potion with Malfoy, Hermione trudged up the small hill to the school. She walked slowly from the cold that had seeped into her muscles, but she arrived before Malfoy again and began setting things up. Hermione was pretty sure after today they would have to potion down pat. She realized she hadn't worked at all on how to counter act the paralysis. Without even considering it, she had just left it to Malfoy to figure out. Which he probably would anyway. But she didn't want him to think she wasn't putting in the work.

Hurrying over to the desk, Hermione didn't sit but leaned over to look at their notes, trying to find at least something she could bring up to Malfoy.

Ten minutes later, slightly late, Hermione started as Malfoy rushed through the door. Her surprise at his loud entrance was nothing to her surprise at his appearance though. His hair was completely loose and free around his face, surprisingly longer than Hermione had thought. His blond fringe framed bright pink cheeks, high over a broad and open grin.

The strangest thing though was his eyes, they were light gray, almost the same color as the stormy sky outside, but they were positively sparkling. They had always seemed to Hermione to be the most communicative part of his face, and right now they were practically screaming happiness.

Hermione was too surprised to even raise an eyebrow. She just stood as Malfoy walked over to her and wrapped her up into a hug, spinning her around once for good measure.

"We did It, Hermione. We actually fucking did it." He stepped back to look at her face. "We made a new potion, a fucking great potion," His hands still on either one of her shoulders he shook her slightly as though to emphasize his point. "and gods, do you like flying? Because I swear, there is nothing to compare."

Hermione was slowly beginning to regain her composure, but still couldn't quite believe that the person in front of her was actually Draco Malfoy. Suspecting Polyjuice Potion she looked at him carefully.

"Draco, do you know where you are? Do you know who you are talking to?" Half joking, half serious, Hermione actually wanted to hear his response.

Malfoy's face fell into a mask of mock seriousness. "Yes, I bloody well know who I am talking to Granger. I am talking to the only other person who can actually appreciate what we have just accomplished!" His smile was back, and Hermione tentatively returned one of her own.

"That's the spirit. Now, I believe I know what we need to adjust, it's quite simple really, let's get started."

And with that, he began working on the potion. Hermione stood still for a couple of minutes simply watching him in amazement, but eventually jumped in beside him.

Like the last two night, they didn't talk much. Unlike the last two nights, Malfoy seemed to be humming to himself while we worked. Amused at the new development in his personality Hermione didn't say anything, only shook her head, making sure that he could see.

Hermione had often experienced Harry and Ron's adrenalin highs after flying, but she had never expected to see it in Malfoy. Her newfound determination to keep her distance from him was already slipping. This person was completely different from the person she had seen this morning.

After making the few adjustments to their potion, a combination of their success yesterday, and Malfoy's exuberance, made Hermione considerably less nervous than she had been last time.

Immediately after finishing, without a word to the strange and cheerful Malfoy, Hermione drank down a full cup. Malfoy turned as she swallowed and halted, anxiety suddenly showing on his face.

Hermione swallowed. One second. Two seconds… Hermione smiled, and she was actually able to!

"Haha!" Hermione did a little jump unable to contain her excitement and Malfoy's smile returned.

"You can move...?"

"So it would seem." Hermione spun on her heals in a full circle, arms wide. "I can move!"

Draco quickly gathered here in another hug, this one much tighter than before.

"We did it." His voice was barely above a whisper, and it felt like he was letting rather a lot of his weight rest on Hermione, his head on her shoulder despite their height difference. They stood that way for a second, both of them breathing in their accomplishment.

"So," Hermione cleared her throat, stepping back "We still need to do the tests. Make sure that part is still working too." And she held out her hand, waiting patiently.

Malfoy quickly pulled out his knife and put her hand in his again. Hermione was finding it very difficult not to flinch now that she could actually move. Hermione felt the pressure as Draco pressed the tip of the knife to her palm. She closed her eyes to help stop herself from pulling her hand back.

She heard Malfoy chuckle and opened her eyes quickly to see her hand, and his filling with blood

"Since you didn't even notice when I cut you, I am going to assume it did not hurt." Setting down his knife, he pulled his wand from his robes. Holding it lightly he murmured a healing charm, tracing the cut, skin sealing behind the path he traced. For a moment Hermione was reminded of earlier that morning when Malfoy had been lightly holding his wand. He had the same grip on it now, light and loose, but completely in control. Her heart took two quick beats, but his face was still smiling, this simply was not the same person as before. It couldn't be. 

Shaking her head Hermione tried to put those thoughts aside for now.

"Next."

Hermione held out her arm for Malfoy to break. He raised his eyebrows slightly at her sudden demand, but after taking a deep bracing breath like he had last night, he said the spell that would break her bone.

A shudder went through her body at the snapping sound, like a twig being stepped on - only considerably louder. But she did not feel any pain. She nodded quickly at Malfoy "Good, now fix it please." Her voice shook a little bit, and Malfoy hadn't missed it.

"It hurts?"

Hermione shook her head "No, it just… I don't exactly enjoy standing here with my arm bending the wrong way. I'm feeling a little dizzy." A little didn't exactly cover it. The world was spinning slowly, and Hermione was sure if her bone were not healed soon, she would be falling to the floor for the third time in as many days.

Possibly Malfoy had noticed the blood draining from her face because he didn't hesitate to cast the healing spell and step back as she moved to lean against a desk.

"Ok, so now what?" Draco was looking to her for direction, clearly not wanting to push her.

Hermione knew what they needed to do next. She also knew that Draco would not be happy about it.

"Draco," She intentionally used his first name, hoping to communicate how serious she was, "You have to crucio me."

"Ha! Um, I'm sorry, what did you say?" Malfoy was immediately serious again, condescension in his voice that Hermione hadn't noticed in awhile "I must be mistaken because I could have sworn you just asked to have the Cruciatus Curse cast on you."

He looked down at her, nose in the air and eyes narrowed. This was the Malfoy she had dealt with for the last six years. And, it was what she had expected.

"I know it seems crazy." Malfoy scoffed, clearly thinking that 'crazy' was not the word he would have chosen. "But what else can we do? You want to give this potion to the people we are trying to protect not knowing if it will actually work?"

Hermione paused, but Malfoy just kept staring, so she continued "As everyone is quick to point out, the unforgivable curses are old magic. It doesn't react the same. We may have just created the most powerful pain-blocking potion in existence… But we don't know if it will counter act the old magic. Not until we try it."

Hermione waited for him to speak, but again, he just stared down at her "Look, if you have another option, I'll take it. I’m not exactly jumping at the chance to be cursed. But, if not…" She let the statement stand. Her frustration at his silence made her Determined to wait for him to speak this time.

After a slow sigh Malfoy finally responded; "Even if you are right, which you have an unfortunate habit of being, there are so many holes in this plan I can't even begin counting them."

Hermione just raised an eyebrow, imitating his earlier tactic to keep him talking.

"Ok. One," Malfoy held one finger out in front of them "you are assuming I can cast an unforgivable. Two, If I could cast an unforgivable, which I am not admitting to being able to do, we are on Hogwarts ground. Hogwarts is protected. Anyone using that kind of magic here would certainly set off all kinds of alarms."

Hermione had anticipated this, Hogwarts; A History had mentioned protections of the sort.

"We won't do it here. Christmas break is barely under a month away. We wait until then. We can meet up in a place with lots of magic, but somewhere private, the Leaky Cauldron, or, I’m sure there is somewhere in Knockturn Ally. Even with the trace, they won't know it is us. They won't be able to trace it." She had been pretty proud of this idea, trying to ignore the fact that they would not only be breaking school rules, but laws if they did actually do this.

"Wait almost four weeks?"

"I know it isn't ideal - but like I said, better than giving them a faulty potion." Hermione waited for Malfoy to consider what she had said.

"Three" Malfoy went on holding out another finger, and giving no indication of what he thought of Hermione's latest idea "in case you forgot, the unforgivable curses are illegal. Effectively a one-way ticket to Azkaban. And you want me to cast it. Even if we don't get caught at the time, suppose for some reason" he rolled his eyes pointedly "I am taken into custody, and my wand examined. Do you think they would believe me that the victim had asked to have the curse cast on them?"

Truthfully Hermione hadn't considered this point. Potential arrest and investigation were not exactly things she thought about often. "Well," she tried to think quickly "first" she held out a finger in imitation of Malfoy "if you do know the Cruciatus Curse, then it will show in your wand already. Doing it once more is unlikely to make a difference. And second, you can use my wand."

Hermione said it without really thinking, if she had thought, she would not have thought it too big of an issue. The shock on Malfoy's face seemed to indicate otherwise, but she continued,

"I know it won't work as well as your own, but, if I give it willingly, it should work alright. Plus, your magic is powerful enough, you'd still be able to get the effect across, even if it wasn't as intense as it usually is when you cast it."

"You realize you would also be sent to Azkaban if they found your wand having cast an unforgivable I presume?" It seemed that condescension was how Malfoy dealt with being off balance - he decided not to mention how personal it was to allow another to use your wand.

"Maybe, but why would they ever have reason to search my wand? Also, you may be forgetting that I am best friends with the 'Chosen One'. I'm not above using his fame to keep myself out of trouble."

She cringed slightly at how Slytherin this sounded. But honestly, if it came down to it, she doubted they would imprison one of Harry Potter's best friends. Especially after how much help she would be providing in the coming war.

"Ok," Malfoy seemed to have taken her Slytherin behavior in stride "Last question." He paused, looking directly at Hermione, forcing eye contact.

"Have you considered the toll an unforgivable curse takes on the one that casts it?"

Hermione was completely thrown by this. Maybe it was the intensity when Malfoy had said that, or maybe it was the almost-admission that he had cast an unforgivable, but she had to work to keep herself from shivering at the chill that went down her spine. She hadn't known there would be any effect on the caster; no spell she had ever cast had done that.

Malfoy took a deep breath and began pacing seeming to anticipate her lack of knowledge, "The unforgivable curses are so named because of their cruel nature, yes. But that is not all," He was gesturing with his hands while he spoke, and Hermione was reminded strongly of a Professor lecturing to a student "there are plenty of evil spells that are not considered 'unforgivable'. I just cast a spell on your arm and, with no effort on my side, broke the bone in your wrist. That is nothing compared to what some curses can do. It is not difficult to find a curse that will kill. But the unforgivable curses have been singled out because of their effect on the caster. There is no clear way to explain it to someone who has not experienced it…"

Malfoy continued pacing but seemed to be having a hard time deciding what to say next. For her part Hermione sat frozen, watching his path and listening intently. His voice was slightly less composed as he continued.

"It is like the feeling from a dementor gives you. Empty. Darkness. Only... it draws you in. Your mind will fight against the pull of the dementor. Your mind races  _towards_  the pull of the unforgivable. It is a comfortable darkness. Soft and deep. Like home, almost… safe."

Hermione could only stare. Malfoy cleared his throat and continued, back in professor mode.

"The unforgivable curses are singled out because they are, simply put, temptation. They are a pull to what you would call 'evil'. They are like a muggle drug. Each time you cast is a hit, it takes you further into oblivion, but you welcome it. It can take many times to fully corrupt of course, but still…" Malfoy paused his pacing directly in front of Hermione, locking eyes with her once more.

"So let me ask you this, Hermione. Do really want me to perform this spell? On you? With no one else around? Knowing the state of mind it will put me under, the pull it will have?"

His eyes were narrowed, and there was danger in his voice again, but Hermione didn't think it was directed at her.

"Exactly how far are you willing to trust someone like me?"

Hermione tried to speak, she really did, but her voice seemed to have left sometime during Malfoy's speech, and she didn't know exactly how to get it back. Malfoy looked at her searchingly, and Hermione had a thought that maybe he was referring to more than just letting him cast the curse on her.

Malfoy's eyes clouded over, narrow and dark and he chuckled softly, "I guess we have our answer." 

"Wait," Hermione jumped up, having finally found her voice and grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving the room. He only looked at her, his face a mask, betraying no emotion. "Draco, I…"

She didn't know what she wanted to say. This man was dangerous, as she had been reminded this morning. But, that wasn't what concerned her most, she didn't want to be the cause of further pushing him down the path he was going.

What had he said? Like a hit to a drug addict? She didn't want to do that, but…

Malfoy shook his head, an ugly smirk on his face at Hermione's continued lack of comment, and turned to leave again.

Acting truly on impulse, like the Gryffindor she was Hermione redoubled her grip on Malfoy's arm and spun him around. Before he could do anything, she reached down to the cuff of his left sleeve and pulled it up.

There on his arm was the Dark Mark. She had been hoping she had been wrong. Hoping he had been bluffing, but there it was. Black as ink against Malfoy's pale, ivory, skin.

Hermione hadn't been sure how Malfoy would react, but he seemed almost too surprised to move. Taking advantage of his momentary pause Hermione left one hand wrapped tightly around his left wrist and brought the other up behind his neck, pulling Draco's head close enough to hers that their foreheads were pressed together.

"I trust you, Malfoy. I simply do not want to make anything worse." She glanced only briefly at his arm, but Malfoy hadn't missed it. His eyes were trained on hers, as though searching for a lie.

They stood that way for more than a few minutes. Neither one exactly sure what their next move should be. Eventually, Draco closed his eyes and leaned his forehead more completely against Hermione's. Placing his free arm on her shoulder and wrapping it around her neck, but not pulling her any closer. They both simply stood. Breathing, and feeling.

Whatever was happening with Draco right now, the last thing Hermione wanted to do was interrupt. He seemed to be… processing? She didn’t know. She was happy to simply feel the light pulse in his wrist, now held gently in her hand. And the feeling of his head against hers was surprisingly comforting. It was… intimate. She smiled briefly when Malfoy had rested his arm across her shoulders, and decided now was one of those times when she should just stop thinking.

An indeterminable amount of time later, but not entirely long enough, she heard Malfoy let out a heavy breath and opened her eyes. He was staring right back at her, closing his eyes lightly he leaned forward and lightly brushed his nose against Hermione's before taking a step back and running a hand through his hair.

Partly disappointed, and partly relieved, Hermione looked back at him. She was full of questions but now was not the time. She did not want to do anything to break the spell that seemed to be surrounding them.

"I'll do it." Malfoy said this simply.

He looked at Hermione questioningly, but when she didn't respond, he simply nodded, turned, and walked out of the room.


	22. Chapter 22

Considering how quickly the weekend had passed, the next few weeks really began to drag. Hermione was back to her usual routine, going to class, doing homework, and spending the evenings with Harry and Ron. But something seemed to be missing from it now.

She had really enjoyed the challenge she had encountered with the potion. Working on such a daunting project, working towards a goal. It had been exciting but now… Well, now she was just waiting again. She had too much pent up energy, and nothing to direct it towards. The pending war was like a time bomb, and she just didn't know when it would go off. Even her newly reinstated prefect duties were not enough to keep her mind occupied.

Hermione also found herself being a little annoyed at her company. Harry and Ron were her best friends, and she was glad for it. But, well, the time she had spent with Malfoy - his eyes hadn't glazed over when she was telling him an idea, and he didn't try to change the subject when there was something they couldn't figure out. They worked on it together. She missed the conversations with him about things that her two friends just thought were boring.

If she were being honest there were probably a few other things she missed about Draco as well... But she only let her mind wander in that direction late at night in her dorm room, when she knew she would not be disturbed.

They had crossed paths a few times of course, but always when they were with other people, so they were forced to ignore each other for the most part. Harry and Ron, however, had noticed that Malfoy had not been picking fights with them lately. They chalked it up to him being distracted by the still mysterious task. And Hermione just let them think that. For all she knew they were right.

There was one more week until Christmas vacation and Hermione was happily lost in her last minute cramming before being away from the library and many of her books.

Harry and Ron had bemoaned another full day of studying though, and Hermione had relented. Following them out to the quidditch pitch where they would fly for a few hours, she would continue her studying but - "at least with a change of scenery" as Ron had pointed out.

Settling down a blanket beneath her on the cold hard stadium seats Hermione had just leaned back to read when suddenly a crinkled up paper flew in her face. Startled, she swatted it away, but it kept coming back. She deftly caught it in one hand, her book still balanced open in the other and was secretly a little impressed with herself.

Unfolding the paper, she recognized the small precise handwriting almost immediately.

_"The warm fires in Gryffindor tower getting to you? Someone has spent too much time in the Slytherin dungeons if she thinks she might actually get any work done in this weather."_

It was truly bitingly cold outside, but Hermione felt a rush of warmth through her middle that she was sure had nothing to do with the weather. Glancing around she tried to see where Malfoy could be that she hadn't noticed him yet. There was a group of three on the other side of the pitch huddled around a stack of papers, two hulking shapes, and one smaller. Possibly Malfoy along with Crabbe and Goyle, but it was hard to tell at this distance.

As though he knew Hermione was looking for him, Draco casually pulled his hat off his head without looking up. There was no mistaking the platinum blond of his hair. Hermione shook her head wondering if he had noticed her the same way. Even under her hat, Hermione's curly hair stuck out quite a bit. Looking back at the parchment Hermione tried to decide how to respond. After erasing her first few ideas, she finally sent the note back to Malfoy.

_"Outside is warm compared to the ice I would be sure to face from most in the Slytherin dungeon. Besides, someone has to make sure the Wonder Boys don't kill themselves._

_Even to someone as purely Slytherin as yourself, it must be freezing, what is your excuse for braving the weather?"_

She sent the note back the way he had sent it to her, wondering what he would do about Crabbe and Goyle. But, she needn't have worried, he simply grabbed it and walked a few steps away to read it before heading back to his companions. Only pretending to be engrossed in her book again, Hermione was not surprised when the paper flew at her the second time. Grabbing the note quickly she looked down and read, 

_"Of course the Chosen One would need his bodyguard, even if only to protect him from himself._

_And what I am doing is entirely my own business… though if Crabbe and Goyle do not pass their tests this year I will find myself without bodyguards. A precarious position considering the only other capable one is currently employed by my nemesis._

_Unfortunately, these bodyguards rely on brawn, not brain. Reputation and fragile egos would dictate no one see them actually study."_  

Hermione laughed at the note, bodyguard indeed. Shaking her head she tried to determine how to respond.

_"My apologies if my 'employment' is bothersome to you, but that does rather mean I’m doing a good job at it, doesn't it? So I think I shall thank you for the compliment I am sure was intended._

_Further, condolences are in order for what I am sure is a thankless task, destined to fail before it was even begun._

Sending the note off Hermione again put her head back to her book, smiling at her own cleverness as much as the exchange itself. Sooner than she expected the paper flew back towards her. 

_"Apology and condolences accepted, and compliment certainly intended. Meet me Thursday @ midnight."_

Startled at the abrupt end to the banter, Hermione glanced up and realized that the three figures across the pitch were now walking back towards the castle. Thursday was the last day before the train would take them back to London the next morning. They still needed to plan their last test.

Smiling to herself despite what she knew her trip with Draco would entail, and trying not to think too much about the smile on her face, Hermione turned back to her book and read until Harry and Ron were too cold to fly anymore.

Thursday evening eventually came and Hermione spent in the common room enjoying the cheerful air that always existed before the holidays, especially the night before everyone left. And even more especially when Fred and George managed to bring in enough fire-whiskey for everyone. Hermione had told Harry and Ron that she was going to spend the first part of the break with her parents and then meet up with the two of them after Christmas. This was true of course but, she didn't mention the fact that one of those days would also be spent with Malfoy.

Finally, exhausted by the sheer volume in the common room as much as anything else, Hermione wished everyone a good night and a Happy Christmas and wandered down to her room. It was thirty minutes until midnight, and she would probably get to the abandoned dungeon potions room before Draco, but there was no reason to wait. Casting her now familiar - though no more pleasant -  disillusionment charm Hermione snuck back up the stairs.

She had known getting through the crowded common room would be an issue, but she waited patiently for a break in the throng of people. Seeing Ron bend over to look at something Lavender had in her lap Hermione saw her path. As quickly as she dared she made her way to stand next to the portrait hole. The first, and easy part of her escape complete Hermione took a breath. Taking a quick look around to ensure no one was immediately near her,  she lifted her wand and did a quick charm she had learned from Fred, of all people.

Suddenly all of the cups in people's hands began to float into the air, next to their owner, bobbing slightly. Then, with another wave of Hermione's wand, the drinks started spinning slowly around the room.

It was quite a funny spell to cast at a party. Especially one that had as much fire-whiskey as this one did. People began shouting and laughing, reaching forward trying to get a hold back on their cups, which danced lightly from their grips. Soon half the room was stumbling, chasing their drinks, and laughing.

In the commotion that thirty drunken teenagers caused stumbling around a room, Hermione quickly let herself out through the portrait and headed to the dungeons, laughing to herself.

Hermione arrived at the room at five minutes 'til and, making herself visible again, relaxed in on of the chairs scattered around the room.

Draco came in not much later, and she quickly straightened her posture. His own posture however was anything but straight, he tripped just slightly as he found a chair and Hermione had a suspicion Gryffindor house wasn't the only house that had managed to obtain some fire-whiskey for an end-of-term celebration.

She hadn't actually talked to Draco in weeks, and she wasn't entirely sure where they stood. Hermione suddenly really did not want to be there, especially not if Draco was as drunk as he appeared.

Possibly noticing the weariness in the way Hermione was looking at him Draco sat up straighter and slicked a few wayward strands of his hair back into place.

"A good leader knows when to mingle with his subjects. It creates camaraderie. People are more willing to follow someone they see as human, someone they like." Malfoy smiled as he said this, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Hermione only raised an eyebrow in response

"There has been… dissension among the ranks." He waived his hand in front of him as though explaining something obvious. "But of course, you saw Nott's behavior. It had to be managed. He is well in line now. He was just feeling a little… neglected."

Malfoy was speaking just as he always did, no slurred speech, no incoherencies. But she suspected he would not be saying anything at all if it weren't for the drinks he had clearly had earlier.

"Yes, because Slytherin house is an army, and you are their captain." Hermione rolled her eyes "Do you _own_ the other Slytherins Malfoy?" She had meant it as a joke but he looked back at her quite seriously.

"In a way. Though your first guess was more accurate. I am their captain, and they are my army."

Hermione scoffed, "that is a little self-important, even for you. What in the world would you possibly do with an army?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Hermione wanted to take them back. She knew exactly what Malfoy would want to do with an army.

He only stared back at her, watching the realization dawn on her face. She shook her head, not wanting to have this conversation.

It seemed the two versions of Malfoy were about to become one, and, if it was going to happen, she wanted it to happen as quickly as possible. Like ripping a band aid. Hermione decided a direct approach would be best,

"Alright, Malfoy. You have an army. An army bent on the subjection of mudbloods. Yet here you sit, talking to one of the very people you mean to oppress. In this very room, you have spent hours with a mudblood, working together, talking, hell, even sleeping together! My dirty blood poured over your hands and onto this floor and you didn't flinch..." Hermione had meant to be calm and rational, but as she spoke her anger had built up more and more until she was shaking with it. Her confusion with his behavior seeming to come to a head all at once.

"Please Malfoy, explain to me how you have rationalized this to yourself. I am dying to know." The bite in her voice had made Malfoy flinch back, almost as though she had slapped him. But, he slowly leaned forward towards her again, resting his head on his hands, like he was thinking over a difficult ingredient in their potion.

"Granger." he cleared his throat and corrected himself, sounding surprisingly calm, "Hermione. You know very little about the cause that I fight for. I do not wish to see you, or those like you denied their magic. Your side, the Order, Dumbledore, they exaggerate to drive people away from us."

Hermione could barely believe what she was hearing, the disbelief stopped her tongue for a second, but only a second.

"No matter what your cause holds itself up as believing, its actions speak much louder. The muggles at the world cup were a bit of fun? Trying to kill Harry another stepping-stone on your way? The fiasco at the ministry just the death eater's idea of a fun night out? It doesn't work like that Malfoy. You can't just say something and make it true."

"But it is true!" Malfoy seemed to realize how loudly he had said that and took a deep breath.

"The Dark Lord represents our movement because he is the loudest and most extreme of the factions. Politics are a scale, and it is always those on far ends that draw the attention. They are needed to bring that attention. That does not mean the represent the more moderate beliefs of those that follow."

"But that's just it Malfoy," Hermione interrupted, "you follow him. You can't pretend like you don't, hell, you just said you are raising an army for him!"

"That was… an exaggeration. Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, the others. We were raised with a strict social structure, they were raised to follow me. Politically. I am their door to success. Through the Malfoy name, they will be able to achieve whatever they wish, but only if they follow me. They know this, though they do not always like it." Malfoy paused, rubbing his hands down his face.

"I do not have an army of soldiers, I have an army of sheep."

"Ha. You say that like it is better? How can you possibly be ok with that? With them having to obey you simply because, what? Your blood is more pure than theirs? Would you like me to follow you too Malfoy? Surely your blood is more pure than mine?"

 Malfoy sighed, "Look, we are getting a little side tracked, I could spend countless hours explaining pureblood politics and traditions to you, but, that's not what you really care about. Do you want to understand my actions? Do you really want to understand? Or do you want to stand here and yell at each other - either one is fine with me."

Hermione was thrown by the calm, rational statement and the lack of anger in Malfoy's voice. She was not used to being the one to loose her temper, and she was not sure she liked the feeling like she had been reprimanded for it. But, Malfoy was right. She actually did want to understand.

She gave Malfoy a sharp nod and folded her arms, leaning back in the chair, waiting.

\---

Malfoy cleared his throat, sobering himself. He was not quite sure where to begin. He had never had to explain these things before, they had simply been part of him, like his name, his birthday.

"Ok. I will start with the most basic. Try not to interrupt, I will, of course answer any questions you have, but it will be easier if I can just say it all through first."

Hermione nodded curtly again, but seemed not to trust herself to say anything. Malfoy had stood up and begun pacing again, back in professor mode.

"There are many different levels of fervor among those that follow the Dark Lord. My father, unfortunately, was one of a handful that followed blindly. But they are in the minority, at least right now. I am rather moderate. We put up with the whims of someone as extreme as the Dark Lord because he is the first to make anyone sit up and listen.

"I may not agree with his tactics, but I will not ignore the opportunities that his actions put before me. You have seen my Dark Mark, I serve him. He has… power over my family. But I do not always agree with his actions. He knows this and accepts my service as I can offer it, though he is always pushing for more. His type of ‘persuasion’ isn't exactly pleasant, but it is not unbearable. Yet." Malfoy paused, gathering his thoughts again, he was slightly off topic.

"Regardless, I will explain to you my beliefs and the beliefs of those that I believe to be a majority of the Dark Lords followers, even if they dare not say it outright. First, we believe that the Statute of Secrecy should be abolished, Second, that wizards, and any with magic" he gestured in Hermione's direction while walking past "should be in place to rule over those without magic. It is as simple of as that. No torture, no killing, no needless destruction. That is all the Dark Lord. But eventually, he will be gone, and he will leave a society that lacks true guidance, true direction. We will step in to fill that void."

Hermione looked at him sharply, honestly trying to consider what he was saying, but failing spectacularly "You are going to have to explain further." Hermione knew her voice sounded clipped and short, so she refrained form saying anymore.

"Ok, let's start with the more palatable one. The Statute of Secrecy. Can you explain to me why we are forced to hide in plain site from muggles?" He held up a hand to stop her, not even this discussion dampening her impulse to answer any question presented to her.

"That was rhetorical. I know why, I know the arguments. Muggles were hunting wizards, were scared of us, trying everything they could to kill us. So we went into hiding. Now, more than half our laws, and easily most of our energy goes to preserving that secrecy." Malfoy could sense that his voice was raised slightly, but continued without adjustment.

"It is illegal to train our children before age eleven, it is illegal for someone to even use magic if they are not yet seventeen, and even then, if you happen to use magic somewhere where a muggle might wander in - illegal. Our lives are dictated by muggles. For no other reason than to prevent them from being afraid." Malfoy paused laughing slightly,

"That old refrain - what is it? If muggles knew we existed they would want magic solutions to all the problems? Is that really reason enough for our entire society to go to all this trouble? To hide, to make everyone hide so that we don't have to tell muggles 'no'?"

Hermione didn't have anything to say to this. Malfoy had clearly spent his entire life testing these ideas and theories in his head, Hermione would need more than a few minutes. "Ok, I can understand the basis for that argument. What about the second point?"

"Ruling the muggles?" Malfoy laughed again, though not unkindly "These ideas… they are so fundamental to me, it is difficult to put them into words." he began pacing again, unaware when exactly he had stopped.

"I am going to explain to you how it was explained to me when I was a child. Please excuse me if I seem to be making light of the topic, it is the only way I know how to explain clearly.

“Muggles are like house cats. Wizards are like lions. An... unfortunately Gryffindor analogy, I know, but let me explain. Both are cats. They both fit into that category, just like wizards and muggles are humans. But that is where the similarities stop. Wizards are born with an innate power that simply does not exist for muggles. Right now we are a pride of lions hiding from the house cats. We should be ruling over them instead. Not because muggles are bad, not because they are stupid, simply because of what they are. And what we are" Malfoy paused again, this time intentionally, and looked directly at Hermione.

"They do not have our magic. They do not have our power. We do not intend to rule in a cruel way, but we have been given this power, and to live as we are, hiding for the sake of those without it... It is unnatural. Lions are meant to rule. Housecats are not. It is simple. If they were supposed to rule they would have to power to do so. The only reason they do so now is because we foolishly allow them to."

"And where do mudbloods fit into this - why so much focus put on us?" Hermione tried to keep her voice level.

"Mudbloods... are like a house cat trying to be a lion." He shot her a glance, but continued "stepping out of place and pulling the wizarding world closer to the muggle." 

Malfoy stared at Hermione, unsure what reaction he would be getting. Whatever he had expected it was not what he got. Hermione burst out laughing. She was angry, so angry she could barely stand it. But, what Malfoy was saying was so… typical. She couldn't help it.

"Malfoy, this whole time I thought you were intelligent." She stood up slowly, beginning to pace as he had been a second ago, and he sat down seemingly without thinking about it, though his glare remained in place.

"Tell me, have you ever even been around muggles Malfoy? I may agree with you about the Statute of Secrecy being a bad idea - simply because it seems to have lead you to your second idea. You know nothing. Absolutely nothing about muggles. So wrapped up in your little sliver of wizardry the rest of the muggle world passed you up ages ago." Hermione laughed again, collecting her thoughts.

"The wizards idea of what a 'muggle' is, is about two hundred years out of date. Although heaven knows wizards have been complacent enough the last two hundred years, muggles have not been. While wizards have been hiding, they also haven't been doing anything else. No invention, no creation, nothing. You can't tell me when you asked me to help you with the Cruciatus Curse that you actually thought it possible? No one did. No one who grew up in the wizarding world thought the potion that two _students_ just created was even possible. Why? Because of 'old magic'?" Hermione shook her head again.

"No, wizards stick with what they know, they do not deviate. Meanwhile, muggles have evolved. They are not recognizable from what they were two hundred years ago. You think you have a power that muggles don't? Then you only show your own ignorance. Muggle technology has matched, and in some cases even surpassed wizard magic in more ways than I can count. I'd like to see you try to rule over them. I'll give you a hint - it wouldn't work."

Now it was Malfoy's turn simply to stare, but Hermione had said her piece, and she folded her arms, waiting patiently.

"I don’t believe you." Malfoy eyes were narrowed so much they barely seemed to be open. Like he was trying to read Hermione's mind.

"Excuse me? That's all you have to say?"

"Yes, it is. I do not believe you. When given a choice between what I have been taught my entire life, and what someone with an obvious bias it trying to convince me of, I choose what I have been taught my entire life."

Hermione shook her head, disappointed at his ability to quickly dismiss the information she had presented instead of actually considering it. "Fine. I will prove it to you."

"You will prove to me, Draco Malfoy, that muggles have power exceeding my own. And your own?"

"Yes. Before we finish this potion, before we do our last test, you will spend a day with me at my parent's house, and we will go to muggle London."

Now it was Malfoy's turn to laugh, "You want me to spend the day surrounded by muggles? And you think that will make me impressed by them?"

"You asked me earlier if I wanted to yell or if I really wanted to understand. Well Malfoy, do you really want to understand?"

Malfoy hesitated. Hermione did not know what she was asking. If he believed what she was telling him it meant possibly turning his back on everything he had ever been taught. His whole life. His whole family, social group, his way of looking at the world. But... he couldn't let it stand. He would not be ignorant of the world, any part of it. Especially if he was to help rule it.

"Fine Granger. We will meet on the train and finalize our plans. It is late." And with that he walked out of the room.

Hermione shook her head at him, he always seemed to need to have the last word.

No matter. He had actually agreed. Hermione had no doubt he would be stunned by half the things in her parent's house, especially if Ron's dad was any indication, but she needed to plan a way to get her point across as clearly and effectively as possible.

She had felt the shift in her and Malfoy's relationship. The casual closeness had dissipated somewhere during their argument, and she was more disappointed about that than she wanted to admit. But if she could show him what she meant to show him, it would be worth it.


	23. Chapter 23

Usually, on Christmas breaks, Draco's father and mother would meet him in Hogsmeade, where they would do a little last minute shopping before he would be side-along apparated home to their manor. Today would be different in just about every way possible. He would be taking the train back. Probably spending a good portion of the time in Granger's company. And then, the cherry on top - he would be leaving with her and her parents in their car.

Hermione had sent him an owl that morning confirming that much, and making sure he would be on the train, but had said nothing else. Compared to their last interaction it had been… well, expected. But disappointing.

Malfoy had known going to see Hermione after drinking wasn't the smartest idea he had ever had. But, he had hoped it would lead in quite a different direction. Still not an entirely smart direction… but a much more fun direction. Inhibitions lowered, he had considered many possibilities. None with quite that much yelling… Well… Maybe just a different kind of yelling…

Malfoy shook his head, it was for the best, really. Nothing could have actually happened between them. Especially with their respective positions hanging over their heads. But a guy could dream. And Malfoy had never had such a difficult time getting someone out of his head. All he seemed to be able to think about lately was Hermione. Her and those damn vanishing cabinets.

He had been with Pansy for awhile in fourth year, and it had been fun at first but, almost more of a convenience than anything else. And Draco knew it was the same for her. He had never been so stuck on anyone before the way he seemed to be now. And of all the people to get stuck on…

There was nothing for it now though. He had thought for a couple of minutes there that Hermione might actually be amenable to what he had been saying last night. What he had said certainly seemed to take her by surprise; she had seemed to be considering it. But, he could still hear her laugh in his head, mocking, like he was an idiot. He wished the memory would make him angry, but all it seemed to do was make him more resigned.

But, he would play along with her game. Spend two days just enjoying her company. Try to forget about things.

Then - it would all be over. After her little experiment ended, and they confirmed the effectiveness of their potion, they would both go their separate ways. As they should. But the thought didn't make him any happier.

Most of the Slytherins went home for Christmas, but the trip to Hogsmeade with parents was fairly typical, so there was no one Malfoy particularly to sit with on the train to London. He had arrived early, hoping to avoid any notice, and found an empty car in the back of the train. He had no doubt Hermione would seek him out to confirm their plans, so he made himself comfortable. Sprawling out with his feet on the bench across from him, he pulled a book from his bag at random and began reading without much interest. After the train started moving he found himself looking out the window as much as at the words on the page.

It was possible that he dozed off because when the door to his car opened he jerked his head much more quickly than he normally would have. Seeing Hermione standing in the door Malfoy sat up straight and waved a hand at the seat his feet had just been occupying, indicating that she should sit.

She quirked an eyebrow, examining the seat for any signs of dirt, but sat down after finding none. Always business, Hermione got started right away.

"So, like I said, my parents will pick us up in front of the station. We'll be driving back to our house, but it is not too far outside of London, so I figure we can get things settled, I'll show you a few things there, then we will head back into the city. We still need to plan the next day, but I wanted to leave that more to you - I imagine you know nefarious wizarding hideouts much better than I do."

From the looks of the paper in Hermione's hand, she had actually made an itinerary for them. Which really shouldn't surprise him at all Malfoy thought, remembering the copious amounts of notes Hermione always seemed to have with her.

"I will think of something suitable, I am sure." Malfoy really wanted to just enjoy the next few days but wasn't quite sure how to bridge the gap they had created last night.

He attempted a carefree smile that felt entirely unnatural "But today, I am here to simply follow your lead 'oh captain, my captain.'" He cringed at the small remainder of last night, but Hermione didn't seem to mind.

"Muggle poetry, Malfoy?"

He merely shrugged his shoulders "Classics are classics."

Hermione seemed to take it in stride, though she looked at him a little more closely. To be honest he had read quite a few muggle 'classics' but only at the command of his father. Books on tactics to better 'know your enemy' and things like Whitman to improve his public speaking voice.

"I know we don't really have anything else to plan, but do you mind if I stay here? I was sharing a car with Luna, and I love her to death, but, I find her most pleasant in… small doses."

Draco smiled his agreement and nodded, pulling his book back out. Hermione too was rummaging in her bag for a book, and soon they were both relaxed, reading, and simply enjoying each other's quiet company. At least Malfoy was. He had no idea what Hermione could be thinking. But she seemed relaxed enough.

Trying to get more comfortable Malfoy leaned back again, this time resting his feet on the seat just to the side of Hermione. She glanced at him and made a few failed attempts to mirror his behavior, but her legs were not long enough, her toes merely scraping the front of the seat as she reached out. Draco was determinedly not looking at her face, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw her grin as she deftly switched the position of her body, and lifted her legs up, not to rest on the seat, but on top of his own legs. Apparently triumphant, she smiled broadly and looked back down at her book.

Draco was sure the pants he was currently wearing cost easily as much as Hermione's entire ensemble, likely more. He looked wearily at her shoes. He did not want to knock her legs off, clearly, it was as much a peace offering as a tease. But, he had his limits. Fortunately, although the shoes were old, and clearly well worn, they seemed clean. Hermione was not as fastidious about appearance as he was, obviously. But she did seem to care about the things she had.

Shaking his head in as exaggerated a way as possible, he bent down to brush some imaginary dirt off of his legs before settling back into his book.

Probably thirty minutes later Malfoy was startled again out of his not-quite-sleep.

"Draco, how old were you the first time you did magic? Not on accident, but on purpose?" though out of the blue for him, Hermione seemed to have been wondering this for awhile.

"I first began practicing with my father's wand when I was seven. Though it was not until eight or nine when I really had much control. Magic in children is often… a little wild." He was quite proud of this fact actually. Most children, those that were not made to hide their magic at least, were only able to use it on purpose occasionally. Full control usually didn't exist until age ten.

"Right, but, what about without a wand? When did you first do magic intentionally without a wand?"

"Without a wand Granger? Most adults cannot channel their magic effectively without a wand. In children magic without a wand is accidental." Malfoy tried to keep his voice even, but even Hermione should know this by now.

She just looked at him, "Hmm…" and turned back to her book.

"Wait here. You can't just leave it at that. Why are you asking me? What are you trying to figure out?" Hermione had a habit of not fully explaining her ideas, and Malfoy felt she got away with it far too often.

Hermione looked slightly taken aback at his request for more information but complied "The first time I had any accidental magic I was quite young. Five or so I believe? But I began using magic intentionally around seven years old. Though, of course, I didn't realize that what I was doing was magic at the time."

Malfoy couldn't help but laugh, there was no way a seven-year-old could do intentional magic without a wand. Hermione just continued.

"After a few accidents at school, I knew I was doing something, but I didn't know what. So, I went into my room and stared at the clock on my nightstand, trying to get it to turn blue."

Hermione laughed "I must have stared at that thing for at least an hour, then suddenly - It was blue! Well, after that it was easier, I turned almost everything in my room blue before the end of the night. Boy, were my parents confused when they came to check on me. After that, I tried to be more subtle, making things move, make noise, that sort of thing."

Malfoy only stared. He had never heard of a child doing something like that. But, most children he knew just took for granted that they would be doing magic in a few years, they had no reason to try quite so hard so early. Even still... That amount of control in a child was extremely impressive.

Looking back at Hermione he could only shake his head "I believe you will never cease to amaze me, Hermione Granger." and turned back to his book.

\---

Hermione was probably more pleased than she should have been at Draco's statement. She knew her abilities were unusual, she had been told that when she asked Professor McGonagall the same question in her first year. She had only intended to put another nail in the coffin of Malfoy's biases against mudbloods with the information. But at his words, she had felt herself glow a little. It was even better than praise from a professor because she knew Malfoy did not give it lightly. She tried not to think about it too much.

After her late night last night Hermione was tired. She didn't even try to fight it as she fell asleep on the train, and she ended up sleeping most of the rest of the way.

When the train shuddered to a halt Hermione stretched her arms up, far above her head, eyes still closed. Trains were not exactly the most comfortable place to rest. Blinking her eyes open slowly she thought she saw Draco look quickly away. 

"Um… You have muggle clothes with you, right?" The slacks under his robes seemed innocuous enough, but she had seen too much of a wizard's idea of muggle clothes not to question.

He only looked at her, and slowly reached up to unbutton his cloak. Hermione inhaled sharply at the movement and felt her eyes widen, but quickly attempted to appear as unaffected as possible. Malfoy's eyes glittered at he laughed, letting his cloak fall gracefully off his shoulders and into his hands. Hermione was relieved to see he was wearing a simple green button up underneath. And, although the style, material, and fit, all seemed to practically scream that he was made of money, it would be perfectly muggle-acceptable.

"Alright, lets go. I owled my parents last night, so they are expecting you."

Malfoy merely followed her out – a few paces back so it was not obvious they were leaving together, and making no comment. Hermione was rather nervous about this whole thing.

Malfoy was many things. And some of those things included: abrasive, condescending, rude, and an ass. To name a few. She was not sure how he was going to behave in front of her parents - muggles. She just had to hope that he would restrain himself.

Walking out of the platform into the muggle train station they had to walk for a while to reach the busy streets where her parents were parked. Thankfully this also meant losing sight of the other Hogwarts students.

Hermione couldn't help herself when she saw her parents. Rushing over to them she pulled them both into a hug.

"I missed you!"

"We missed you too honey."

"Glad to see you safe."

Her parents often seemed to Hermione like the only really solid thing in her life. She didn't see them much, but she could always count on them, stead fast and steady. She took a step back from them and Malfoy stepped up next to her, handing her the bag she hadn't noticed she had dropped in her rush to her parents.

"I hope you guys got my owl, this is Draco, I mean, Malfoy, I mean…" She glanced at him for help, she wasn't really what to call him in front of her parents. Draco felt a little too familiar in public, but, calling him by his surname outside of school felt bizarre.

"Draco Malfoy, you can call me Draco if you'd like. It is a pleasure to meet you." Malfoy had said this all very formally and Hermione was reminded forcefully of the politicians she had met occasionally at her parent's charity functions. "Thank you for being so willing to allow me to intrude in the short time you have with your daughter."

Malfoy gave her parents a winning smile the likes of which she hadn't seen since Gilderoy Lockhart had graced the cover of half of her schoolbooks. She tried her hardest not to laugh at Malfoy's behavior, and her parent's slightly stunned faces, but they took it in stride. "You are very welcome, of course. It is always nice to meet Hermione's friends."

Hermione's mother gestured them on to the car.

"This is our car here, what do you know about cars?"

Malfoy looked at her and scoffed "I know about cars, Granger."

Hermione just rolled her eyes, "I assumed you knew what they are, have you been in one? Do you know how they work?"

Malfoy paused at this, shaking his head in annoyance "Apparition is much more efficient."

Hermione let it stand and lifted her bag to her father, who was arraigning the luggage in the trunk. Walking to the other side of the car she indicated that Malfoy should get in on the opposite side, laughing a little as he surreptitiously watched her father open the front passenger door next to him to understand the pull-from-underneath handle on the door.

Getting in and buckling the seatbelt in place she leaned forward to address her parents. "Like I wrote to you, Draco is hoping to get a better understanding of the muggle world. Mum, can you describe to him how the car works."

Hermione turned her neck to look back at Malfoy "He has no traditional education, so you might want to start small," She couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face at his annoyed glance "But, he is also rather smart, so I imagine he will catch on quickly."

Her eyes darted down to his lap and she leaned across him. Malfoy took a rather large breath at her sudden closeness, but quickly became confused when she reached behind him to pull down the safety belt. Taking only slightly longer than necessary to buckle it. Hermione leaned back in her seat answering his unasked question. "In case we crash."

"Crash?" Malfoy's eyes were wide as he looked first out the window at all the other cars, and then back at the thin fabric belt across his chest, clearly finding it insufficient. "Crash?" He repeated to Hermione's amusement.

"Don't worry, my mother is a great driver. And crashes are rarely fatal." She looking over at him grinning, his pallor a little more noticeable than usual as he swallowed, grumbling under his breath. Hermione could have sworn she hear him say something along the lines of "more powerful my ass" as she looked up to her mother’s explanation.

"Well, the internal combustion engine is a rather simple concept really…" It did not take Hermione long to tune out as she was already well aware of how the engine in their car worked, but Malfoy listened attentively, asking the occasional question. After awhile they were out of the city, speeding along the highway.

\---

The entire drive was probably about two hours, and Draco spent the entire time listening to Hermione's mother discuss mechanics. They had moved from car to rockets, to space exploration.

"You're telling me muggles have been on the moon?" That was ridiculous. The moon indeed. But Hermione's mother just laughed lightly.

"Ages ago, the American's were first, but certainly not the last." She kept her eyes mostly on the road, but Draco had noticed her glancing back whenever they began a new topic, eyes sparkling at his disbelief. Malfoy did not know enough about space to know exactly why this should be impossible, but he was certain it should be. He tried a different approach.

"Why?"

"Why go to the moon?" Hermione's father joined in, "Why not go to the moon? Why did humans sail across oceans to go to America? Why do we dive thousands of meters below the ocean? To explore, to discover, and to learn." He said this simply. Sounding astonishingly like Hermione.

But Malfoy was side tracked, "Wait, thousands of meters into the ocean?"

Hermione had been right about one thing, muggles did seem to be living their own completely separate world. Nothing he had learned so far seemed to make them more powerful by any means. But they were more inventive than he would have imagined. He glanced over at Hermione, he had thought she was sleeping but the small smirk on her face betrayed her attentiveness. This was clearly exactly what she had wanted, to expose him to all of this muggle 'evolution'. But it would take more than moons and ocean floors to convince him of anything.

The car eventually rolled to a stop, pulling into the drive of a modest, but well appointed home. The three Grangers got out of the car and, after only a few seconds to figure out how to disengage the belt, Malfoy followed.

"Would you guys mind taking in our bags? I have to talk to Draco really fast." Hermione took him by the forearm pulling him only a little roughly, into her back garden.

She had that hard, determined look on her face, and Draco couldn't figure out what had caused it but decided it was just best to wait it out.

"Draco. I need you to give me your wand."

He thought it must be a joke, but her face betrayed no humor.

"Seriously. You cannot have your wand here. If there is any magic done I could get expelled from school, they won't know it was you." She held out her hand, but Malfoy made no move to hand over his wand.

"I can't just give you my wand… What if something were to happen? We are in the middle of a war, in case you've forgotten." Granger must be out of her mind to think he would willingly give away his only defense.

"Malfoy, we are in the middle of muggle suburbia. No one knows you are here. No one here knows you are a wizard, nothing will happen. And if it does - well, are you really anticipating that I am going to leave you alone and helpless in the muggle world?"

"That’s obviously not the point! I can't just give you my wand, Granger."

"I don't particularly like it either but, can you tell me the last time you turned on a light without using your wand? The last time you checked the clock, or grabbed your shoes without somehow using magic? I can't risk you slipping up. Hogwarts is more important to me than that. If you don't give me your wand, you can't stay."

Hermione finished firmly, determination clear in her eyes. She really meant it. Draco just stared. Could he really do it? Give up his wand? She was right, he used it for everything, rarely with a second thought. He wouldn't intentionally do magic but… Fuck. If it were anyone else there wouldn't be a question. He had known this witch would be dangerous.

Not taking his eyes off of Hermione's he slowly slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wand. He placed it in her outstretched hand but didn't let go. Hermione's eyes widened slightly in surprise when the wand touched her hand, but she made no move to pull it away from him.

"If you are getting my wand, then I want something from you." He kept his voice low and stepped forward as he spoke. He was a Slytherin after all, leave no opportunity untapped.

Hermione's lips parted slightly in surprise when she noticed Malfoy's pointed glance down, clearly eyeing her mouth. Malfoy took another step closer to Hermione, looking searchingly at her eyes. He could feel her breath, warm and soft as it spanned the almost non-existent, too-large, space between them. Her eyes, so wide, before gently fluttered closed as she leaned slightly forward.

"Hermione, Draco! Would you like some sandwiches?" The friendly voice was like a bucket of ice water. Hermione jumped about a foot in the air, quickly pocketed both wands, and headed to the door with a quick backwards glance.

"That would be great!" Hermione's voice broke a little bit at her statement, and her cheeks flushed, but she continued on to the house leaving Draco to follow her in.


	24. Chapter 24

Draco sat politely while Hermione caught her mother and father up on all that had been happening at school this year. She clearly enjoyed talking to them. It was interesting to see her interact with them in a way he would never dream of interacting with his own parents. So relaxed, so comfortable.

Soon enough they had eaten their fill and Hermione lead him up the stairs to get their bags. "My room is just down the hall, the guest room is across the way, but I think my parents just put both of our things in here," Hermione opened the door to her bedroom and Malfoy walked in.

It was exactly what he would have expected. One wall covered with floor to ceiling bookcases - all full. The opposite wall a desk and closet. Her bed was pushed into the corner, almost as though it were an after-thought. Looking more closely he could see everything was the height of organization, except the closet, which, even with the doors closed, had things pushing to get out, sticking through the crack between the double doors. The colors were light and nondescript, the only flashes of color came from the wall over her desk where she appeared to have pinned several photos and even a Gryffindor banner.

Chuckling Malfoy walked over to look more closely at the photos, some still and unmoving, others featuring mainly the golden trio, laughing and waving up at him. The muggle photos all appeared to be with family. Plenty of young Hermione, but not with any peers. Remembering Hermione in their first year Draco wondered whether she had actually had friends before Harry and Ron.

Glancing back at her he realized Hermione looked slightly embarrassed. "It's a little small" she swept her hands, taking in the majority of the room "but, well…" 

"It is fine Hermione, very you." Hermione seemed to be trying to decide if it had been an insult.

Malfoy leaned down to pick up his bags, Merlin, he had not realized how uncomfortable this would be, her room, their almost-kiss...

"Across the hall you said?"

"Yup, directly"

After depositing his bags Malfoy returned to Hermione's room where she was sitting at the desk, looking at something on her desk that he had not really considered earlier.

"Have you heard of computers?"

"Heard of them? Yes. Muggles play chess on them or something, right? I heard some second year talking about it I believe."

Hermione laughed, "Just wait." She indicated the screen in front of her, currently a bright white. Malfoy stood there for a few seconds, just staring, but nothing was happening. He cleared his throat impatiently.

"I did say wait. It will be worth it." A few more seconds later words scrolled down the screen and Malfoy bent forward to read

"Google?"

"Behold Malfoy, a power you have never experienced before."

Hermione must be going crazy. Maybe there had been something wrong with their potion after all.

"I'm going to need more than that Granger…"

"What do you want to know more about? Anything at all. Well, anything muggle."

What did he want to know more about? Malfoy looked around the room, only one small square on the wall showing anything personal. "You."

"Me? Hmmm… ok, that will actually work. Watch."

Hermione placed her hands on a square of plastic in front of the computer and Malfoy heard a soft clacking sound, and the words 'Hermione Jean Granger, Warwick Elementary School.'

"Jean?"

Hermione only glared back. After a few more seconds of waiting different words appeared on the screen. Moving her hand to another piece of plastic on the desk Hermione moved it around and Malfoy heard a click. Another image appeared on the screen.

"Ha!" It had come out much more of a bark than a laugh, but he hadn't had any control over it. There on the screen was a picture of what had to be a no more than six-year-old girl, unmistakably Hermione. Hot pink pants and matching jacket, long mane of hair sticking out in every direction, and a grin bigger and cheesier than any he had ever seen on the Hermione he knew now.

He leaned down more closely to read the words next to the picture, stopping once his face was just over Hermione's shoulder.

"My name is Hermione Jean Granger. I am in year two at Warwick Elementary School. My favorite animal is the elephant because they are intelligent and kind. My favorite - "

"Ok, ok, I think we get the picture" Hermione moved her hand again, clicked, and the picture and words Draco had been reading disappeared "I actually made that website myself, it was a school project."

"Website?"

"That's what each of these is called," Hermione gestured at the screen "And there is a website containing almost any information you could possibly want."

"Anything?"

"Absolutely. Like a library, except you don't have to look through countless books to find what you want. You just type in the words, and it will find the answer for you. Anything."

"Alright, show me something that muggles have that wizards do not. Show me their power."

Hermione appeared to think for a few minutes "You know about guns, right?"

"A mechanical Avada Kedavra. But much more crude."

"Something like that." She began typing again and Malfoy looked at the screen as the words 'atomic bomb' appeared.

She clicked again, and got up, gesturing Malfoy into the chair.

"Read."

He began reading, growing more and more confused by the minute. Hermione did not bother him as she set to unpacking a few things to their proper spots in the room.

"Ok. Most of this was gibberish. But you're saying this actually exists? This bomb that wiped out an entire city?"

"Yes. It does. And what was gibberish?"

"All this talk of 'atoms' and 'elements'. But you can explain later" He assumed she had been about to jump into what was sure to be a thorough explanation." Show me more about the bomb, not how it was made, but what it did. Its affects."

"Of course, one second."

Hermione got off the bed and walked to the computer, leaning over Malfoy much as he had leaned over her earlier. Malfoy realized she smelled like her room. Fresh and clean, but also, parchment, books and something else… Apples? He shook his head looking at the screen as she manipulated the computer.

Suddenly the screen filled with black and white photos. Malfoy had been about to scoff at the poor quality of them but quickly held his tongue. His mouth shutting tightly as he felt suddenly cold.

The images in front of him… Suffering and destruction… On a scale he had never even dreamed of imagining. Debris and dust. Dirty crying children. Burns and deformity.

The Dark Lord was nothing to this. Not yet at least...

He quickly banished the thought from his head, but he couldn't banish the images.

"People are still feeling the affects today, children are born with deformities, cancer and illness are rampant." Her tone was appropriately hushed, but it sounded harsh and sharp to Malfoy's ears. Hermione glanced at him and quickly moved to make the images disappear again.

"Power I can't imagine… This isn't power. This is… Horror. You praise the muggles that did this, and scorn the Dark Lord?" Malfoy was incredulous.

"I think no higher of the individuals that sent this bomb than I do of Voldemort. They were individual choices. However, although there are many with this knowledge, no other atomic bombs have been used since.”

She ran her hands through her hair, curls bouncing and tangling in equal measure. "It is not black and white. There are many good things that have been done with similar knowledge as well, medicines, and crop improvement. But, it is more difficult to see how dramatic their effects have been, especially without understanding the science behind it."

"So the bomb has the shock value? That is certainly true." Malfoy was just beginning to shake off the cold that had seeped into him at the sight of the images.

"Show me the… 'science'." It was difficult to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, science had always been kind of a joke, muggles fruitlessly grasping for their own magic.

Hermione paused, slowly looking around her room, then headed for the wall of books. After a few seconds consideration, she pulled a large, thick hardbound volume from the middle. "This covers the basic hard sciences, biology, chemistry, a little physics, that kind of thing. Don't read it word for word or we will be here for days. Just skim." She opened the book to a random page, pointing to a bolded out word "read the definitions, that kind of thing. I'll go downstairs while you read."

Malfoy was looking at the book intently and just waived her dismissal. He heard a chuckle as Hermione left, walking back to her parents.


	25. Chapter 25

Draco spent considerably more time absorbed in the book Hermione had given him than indented. And then he had gone over to the bookshelf and pulled out a few more.

 There was so much information.

Why did wizards not know this? The magic they could do if they utilized this information… Healing spells that actually functioned with cells and not just an injury? Potions _intentionally_ triggering different areas of the brain. Cerebellum for movement, thalamus and cerebral cortex for pain. He was sure that is how Hermione had thought to make their variant of the pain potion. If he had known that earlier…

 Well the potion still would have taken as long, but that was only because there was no record of how the different plants and animal parts affected different parts of the brain. Had no wizard ever thought to look into this?

 The possibilities were endless.

Had they been intentionally blind? Could they not see, or did they simply not want to?

No, not they. We. 'I am a wizard, and a death eater' Malfoy thought forcefully. If anything this new knowledge made it even more important to break the statute of secrecy. Ruling the muggles without this knowledge would be disastrous. Gods, this was confusing. He needed to know more.

Looking up through the window over Hermione's bed Draco was surprised to see that it was dark outside. How long had he been in here? And why hadn't Hermione come to get him?

She had his wand. And he had just let her walk away. Stupid, careless.

In a slight panic Malfoy strode quickly out of the room and back down the stairs, but he paused once he reached the last step. A muggle television was playing in the corner, and on the couch facing away from him were the Grangers. Mr. and Mrs. Resting together on one end, with Hermione laying across this expanse, feet in her father’s lap, head in her mother’s, and clearly fast asleep.

It was a soft moment. One that should probably be on some greeting card somewhere, and Draco couldn't bring himself interrupt it. Walking as quietly as possible back up the stairs, he grabbed a couple books out of Hermione's room, and made himself comfortable in the guest room.

The room itself was small and simple, but the bed was exceedingly comfortable. And the lamp on his bedside table gave off a soft yellow light, rather than the hash white he usually expected from electricity. He didn't know how long he read before falling asleep, but he vaguely heard Hermione gently knock, before opening the door.

 Malfoy kept his eyes closed, feigning to be still asleep. Small, soft footsteps paused near the bed, gently clicked off the light, and then walked out, door shutting behind them.

\---

Hermione had found it hard not to laugh when she had walked into her room.

Draco had left a mess, books everywhere. Typical. For such a particular person, he was quite fond of leaving messes. Hermione had a couple of things planned to show him today, but she hadn't wanted to interrupt the reading. It was far better to let him explore on his own. After his crash course in the atom bomb and basic muggle science, anything that she had to show him would only serve to emphasize what he was already beginning to understand rather than break new ground.

The next morning Hermione woke up even earlier than she usually did. Confused, she heard voices coming from downstairs, usually her parents had already left for their jobs by now. Going downstairs and peaking her head around the base of the stairs she saw Draco, staring transfixed at the television, which was currently playing a cooking show.

 "Up already? Have you eaten?" Her words sounded slightly awkward, even to her own ears. How was one supposed to great a Malfoy after he slept at your house?

 "How do muggles get anything done with one of these in their home?"

 "Ha, it is truly a growing epidemic. Cereal?"

 "Love some."

Malfoy finally turned around, grinning at the sight of Hermione in her pajama pants and over large T-Shirt, hair pulled back into a hasty ball on the back of her head. She followed his eyes and merely smirked back. Malfoy of course looked pristine in silk green pajamas and I simple white fitted shirt.

"If I hadn't seen how you were laying last night I would think a Malfoy never looks rumpled."

Draco quickly arraigned his face into a glare "A Malfoy never looks rumpled."

But Hermione just gestured to the table, getting out bowls and milk for the cereal. Draco sauntered over, looking entirely too comfortable in her muggle house.

"So I had a couple things planned for yesterday, but, if you don't mind we can just do them today, and go to wizard London a little later in the day. Really you have more information now I think than I really intended, but, what I have planned should… reinforce some of the things you read yesterday."

"Like I said, at your command, captain."

"Right, so, I probably should have asked this earlier but, you don't know how to ride a bike by any chance do you?"

"Why do I need to ride a bike, Granger…"

"Well, yesterday my parents were here, but now they have gone, so there is no car. And really I haven't driven enough yet for it to be entirely safe anyways… The tube is only a twenty minute bike ride from here."

"No Hermione, I do not know how to ride a muggle bike."

"I guess you'll be learning more today than we thought!" Hermione grinned brightly, but Draco scowled.

 ---

Hermione was quite disappointed when Draco caught on to riding her old bike with only a few stumbles, and not even a single real crash. Soon enough he was racing past her, egging her on, a light in his eyes similar to the one that appeared when he flew.

"I mean, it's not the same of course. Doesn't really compare to the speed of a broom, or the adrenalin from the height. But it's something."

"Some people jump them, do flips in the air."

They had just reached the entrance to the station and Hermione was quite glad to be walking the bike now instead of riding.

"On these?" Malfoy clearly deemed the plastic and metal insufficient to be flying through the air. As opposed to a broom…

Hermione simply smiled and shook her head. After locking up the bikes she paid for their tickets and directed Malfoy to the platform.

"Our time is more limited than I was planning on," She shot a pointed look in Malfoy's direction, but he seemed completely unaffected "but based on your interest yesterday, I thought we would go to the science museum. I had a few other ideas, shooting range, libraries, that kind of thing. But, well… What do you think?" Hermione wasn't quite sure why she was nervous about this, but it seemed like Malfoy was actually interested in learning, and she didn't want to mess that up somehow. They were waiting on the platform, and Malfoy seemed to be enjoying taking in the cold, industrial view.

"Hmm… So you think I respond better to theoretical learning than practical?" Hermione raised an eyebrow to show her confusion and Malfoy continued "Most people would feel a practical demonstration would be more effective, shooting a gun, feeling the power behind it. But instead, you are taking me to a place with more facts and figures."

"Oh, well, I just…" Why had she decided on the museum? She had been shooting with her parents before, and even knowing what she was getting into the force behind the gun had startled her. Maybe that would have been better? "We can always go to the range, I just-"

"No, no, I wasn't complaining. Merely curious. I agree with your decision. I don’t need a practical demonstration to grasp the concepts. Though many would." He seemed rather self congratulatory about this but Hermione immediately thought of Ron. He might get something from reading about how a gun worked if he managed to do so without falling asleep, but, shooting it would tell him much more than words ever could. She was the opposite. Once Hermione got used to shooting the guns she enjoyed herself enough, but after getting home she had immediately set about researching the different guns she had used, and how they worked, and what they were used for. That had been much more instructive to her. Apparently, Draco was the same.

He had been watching her face as she followed this train of thought, and laughed when she glanced back, realizing she was being watched.

"I always made fun of Gryffindors for being so bad at hiding what they are thinking, but I find I rather enjoy watching your face switch from thought to thought."

\---

The ride into London went very smoothly. Hermione had been a bit worried about how Draco would react to the many characters that were found on the tube, but he appeared to take it all in stride.

She noticed his eyes widen when he saw the young man get on, dressed in what appeared to be a women's summer dress, combat boots, and a long golden wig on his head, puffy hot-pink coat in hand.

"No wonder muggles never notice when wizards don't get their clothes right."

And he definitely stared for longer than appropriate when a business man got on, gesturing wildly, apparently talking to himself and Hermione had quickly pointed out the cell phone in his hand, explaining its purpose.

The museum itself had always impressed Hermione. She had been there many times with her parents, but every time she felt a sense of awe as she walked into the giant building, larger than an airplane hanger, holding so much information.

Hermione remembered the first time she had gone, it had been with a school class, and was the only time Hermione could remember being scolded by a teacher. Unable to contain her excitement she had run from one display to the next, reading the plaques as quickly as she could, effectively leaving the rest of the class behind. She hadn't even noticed them calling her name as they looked for her.

Draco's face mirrored the awe she had felt that first time, though he appeared to be controlling his exuberance much better than 8-year-old Hermione had. Slowly walking around the building Malfoy read each plaque carefully. And Hermione kept silent, watching Malfoy learn.

She didn't know what she expected to come of this. She didn't know what conclusions Malfoy would draw, and she knew it was crazy to expect him to change his entire life over this information. But, as she watched him read, long deft fingers tracing the edge of the plaque following the path of his eyes, she couldn't help but imagine it. Him leaving the blood purity nonsense behind. Being able to feel those hands on her. Her eyes traveled up his body. Those arms around her waist, those lips, currently pursed in thought…

Hermione hadn't realized she was staring and jerked her eyes back to the plaque in front of them when Draco met her eyes, her stomach doing wild twists inside of her. Even if Draco believed all of the things she was showing him, even if he changed his mind, what was there to be done about it? Voldemort was practically his houseguest. And was holding his mother basically as ransom for some task. Draco couldn't just leave. 

Suddenly she began to feel guilty about showing him all of this, trying to convince him. The only thing it could possibly do was make things more difficult for him. Gods, would it be better to simply let him be?

"I don't think I could make your expression change more quickly if I was casting a switching spell on your features. Are you doing alright Granger?" This time Malfoy had been staring, but Hermione hadn't noticed. She shook her head and smiled.

"My mind was just wandering down its own path. What about yours? What do you think?" Her arm gestured in front of them, taking in the building of muggle technology and science.

"Honestly? I don't know what to think." His brow was furrowed, and he certainly seemed to be distracted, as though he was just thinking out loud "It's mostly just building on what I read about yesterday but… I just don't know Hermione." His face was serious, confusion clearly etched in the lines around his eyes, but suddenly it broke, and he gave her a large if somewhat strained smile "You've certainly given me a lot to think about."

Not knowing exactly what to make of the quick change of mood Hermione paused, mouth slightly open to speak, but not knowing exactly what to say. Malfoy smirked and gently pressed a finger against her chin, effectively shutting her mouth for her.

"Hmm, I recall offering you a picture once when you were staring at me. It seems maybe I should have actually given you one. Possibly you'd find it easier to focus now, were you able to stare at my face all you wanted in private."

Hermione clenched her teeth together tightly; he was so conceited, but she still couldn't seem to think of anything to say. The words were lightly mocking, but his eyes sparkled with humor and Malfoy had stepped forward while saying them, by the end, his mouth right by her ear, and his words barely a whisper. She was suddenly reminded of when they had first played the little game.

"But now it would seem we are getting the wrong kind of stares." Malfoy stepped back, gesturing to the right with his head to where a security guard was eyeing them, as though waiting for them give him an excuse to kick them out. Hermione blushed at the realization, but Malfoy took her hand and pulled her in the direction of the exit.

Walking out of the building, they were momentarily blinded by the bright winter sun and chilled by the cold breeze. Malfoy didn't let go of her hand as he started walking in an apparently random direction.

Hermione cleared her throat, for some reason Malfoy's hand on hers seemed to create a lump there, and she was sure her voice would skip if she tried to speak without getting rid of it. "Where are we going?"

She was proud to notice her voice was only a little higher than normal.

"I thought we might find somewhere to eat, it is almost one."

Hermione hadn't realized they had been in the museum for that long, but at the reminder, she noticed how hungry she was as well. So while they continued walking Hermione attempted to keep an eye out for somewhere to eat. Not knowing whether she wanted to find somewhere quickly, or prolong their stroll a little bit.

The longer they walked, the more Hermione couldn't stop thinking about Malfoy's slim fingers, wrapped around hers. Their arms brushed against each other every few steps, and even with the layers of clothes between them, Hermione could swear she felt the heat from his skin. Her heart was pounding, like before a test, but worse, because she at least could prepare for her tests. This was being thrown into a pool without knowing how to swim. She kept glancing at Malfoy through the corner of her eye. He had a small smile on his face but otherwise seemed totally unaffected.

Totally unaffected. He was holding her hand, and seemed totally unaffected by it! How dare he… She was over here flailing, mind going a mile a minute, and he was just walking calmly next to her. That seemed tremendously unfair.

Hermione would not let it stand.

At that moment they walked past a small break between buildings, less of an alley way, more of a cut out path, no more than six feet wide. Hermione took a deep breath and turned on her Gryffindor mind - which really, she thought, was more like just turning off her mind altogether.

She pulled Malfoy off the side walk and into the not-alley way. Turning to face him she put one hand on his shoulder, pushing him back against the wall, and kissed him.

She hadn't meant to be quite so violent about it, but the second she made her decision; it was as though all of her nervous energy exploded out of her. Her lips found his rather roughly, and he did not respond right away. But, just as Hermione thought that maybe this had been a bad idea, his lips melted under hers, pushing back and matching her pressure.

Hermione hadn't quite known what to expect. She hadn’t exactly planned this out. Kissing Malfoy.

But she was sure she wouldn't have been able to imagine anything better than this. One hand was in her hair, pulling her closer to him, the other found her waist, under her coat. His warm hand separated from her skin by only a thin layer of fabric.

His tongue lightly touched her lips and without thought, her mouth was open to him. Soon the interplay of their tongues, exploring mouths, overrode any thought Hermione might of had.

Malfoy pushed forward suddenly, taking them a few steps to press Hermione against the opposite wall instead of himself. Her gasp had broken their kiss, but Malfoy seemed to take this opportunity to begin trailing hot, wet almost-bites down her chin, her neck, the wind chilling her skin wherever he left a trail.

Hermione had done this before, had done more than this before with other boys. But she was completely absorbed by this in a way she hadn't been before. Maybe it was because it was Malfoy, because it was so 'bad', but she didn't care to think too hard about that right now.

Malfoy bit particularly sharply at the spot on her neck, just below her chin and she unconsciously let out a small moan. Correctly interpreting her sound Draco flicked his tongue out roughly in the same spot, pressing and sucking. Hermione was pressed against the wall, but at this, she couldn't help but press her hips forward. Her fingers found Draco's belt loops and hooking her fingers, she pulled him against her more firmly so that he was pressed against her. A low growl seemed to slip out of Draco's mouth, pulling back, he looked directly into her eyes and she felt her blood begin to pound, heavy and loud as she felt Draco's erection between them, hot and hard, but she only tugged harder on the belt loops, pressing against him more completely, extracting another moan of pleasure from Draco.

\---

Draco wasn't sure how long they stayed there, kissing, tasting, pressing. But they were startled out of their own little alley world at a sudden wolf-whistle from the street beyond. Glancing to the road he saw a small group of men, presumably on a lunch break, had stopped at the entrance to their hidden path to observe them. Draco threw a finger up in their direction, having broken away from the kiss with his most Malfoy of stares, but they just laughed and continued on their way.

"Well, um… Lunch?" Hermione seemed almost as out of sorts as Draco felt. Funny, considering that she was the one who initiated the whole thing. He couldn't stop thinking about the feeling of her lips and hands and god…

He couldn't keep the grin from creeping onto his face, and it was definitely ruining the effect of the smirk that he was trying to put there.

"Hungry, Granger?"

"Yes." Apparently, choosing to ignore the insinuation. "Quite."

They walked out of the alley together, and headed down the street, almost as though there had been no interruption.

Except Draco's shirt was now un-tucked, and Hermione's hair was even more wayward than usual. Not to mention the fact that Draco's head was spinning. Without thought he raised his fingers to his swollen lips. God Hermione was good at that. He was half surprised. She put off such a prim and proper air, so put together and reserved, but the girl which he had just been kissing. Well, prim and proper weren't exactly the words he would use to describe it.

"How about here?"

"Sure." Malfoy hadn't even looked at where he was agreeing to eat before he said it. It was one of those places where you order at a counter instead of your table, the type of place his parents would never be caught dead in. But it smelled like chips, and Draco wasn't exactly in the mood to complain about anything at the moment.

After ordering food Draco lead them to a table, grimacing at the squeaky plastic seat as he sat down. It was slightly awkward, neither of them quite knowing what to say. Draco would have been more than happy to occupy their mouths in another way. But, considering the table between them, and the children happily eating only a few feet away he decided against it.

Despite this decision, Draco couldn't seem to keep his eyes from flickering to Hermione's lips each time she took a sip from her drink. Hermione, for her part, seemed to find the wall just to Draco's left very interesting as her eyes kept darting there every time Draco tried looked at them.

This just would not do. Malfoy did not want Hermione to start overthinking this, and, if anyone was going to overthink things - it would be her. His plan to enjoy the rest of their short time together was going much better than he had even planned. He was not ready for it to end. Not yet.

"You're quite good at that you know."

"Yes, um, sorry, what?" Malfoy smirked.

"You're first reaction when someone tells you that you're good at something is to say yes?"

"No, I just… What are you saying I’m good at?"

"The kissing. And the staring at the wall. But mostly the kissing." Draco was pleased to see that even though she blushed and looked back at the wall, Hermione was clearly fighting to keep a smile off of her face as well.

"Yes, well. You aren't too bad yourself." She was still staring at the wall slightly to his left, but there was a definite grin on her face now.

"It would seem potions is just one of our shared talents." She finally looked back at him and he smirked as she cleared her throat.

"Yes, well, I am a woman of many talents." She had adopted his cocky tone, but the slight deepening of her blush gave her away.

"So it would seem. We should conduct a few more experiments, just to be sure."

"Yes, it is always important to be thorough." Her grin was infectious, and Malfoy's cheeks were starting to ache from smiling so much. Heaven knows it was not his typical look. What was this witch doing to him? The thought that no one had made him smile quite like this before made it feel like a stone had dropped in his stomach. After today, after they tested their potion…

No. No reason to think about that now. They both knew who the other was.

They both knew that what had happened earlier… it was like a moment out of time. A moment to not think about war, and ruling, and vanishing cabinets, and mothers in pain.

They were a moment to each other. A moment of being an actual teenager. A moment to just think about themselves, no one else. A moment to enjoy. But, they both knew that the moment couldn't last forever.

Malfoy looked over at the girl across from him, curly hair back flying in every direction. Cheeks still pink from the cold and pleasure of a few minutes before, eyes sparkling as she looked at him teasingly. Like they were in on a secret joke together that no one else quite understood.

Merlin, tomorrow was going to be hell. But today, today was his moment in heaven, and he would do what he could to enjoy it.

"So, what else do you have to show me?" Hermione was thrown temporarily, her eyes going wide. Remembering her last comment Malfoy laughed before clarifying, "to show me the power of the muggles?"

Blushing again Hermione pulled a sheet of paper from the bag she had brought with her. "Well, I had a list of possible things, but, we still need to go to Wizard London, and I am just not sure exactly what we have time for. The trip to the Leaky Cauldron from here is about another hour I think…" she looked down at the list thoughtfully before looking back up at Draco "Is there something specific you are interested in. I feel like I really haven't shown you all that much, but with only a day it was difficult to plan anything too ground-breaking."

Draco looked back at Hermione, not quite enjoying being pulled back into reality. "Hermione, I've learned more in the last two days than the entire first two years at Hogwarts. I am not entirely sure where that information will end up fitting in my head. But, it is a considerable amount of information." He looked around at the small lunch crowd spread out in the small restaurant. "Muggles are much more… complex than I expected. But, I don't know exactly what that changes for me. I need to think. And organize."

"But, not house cats?"

"No… Not house cats. But, that doesn’t mean I think they are lions." Malfoy laughed as she rolled her eyes, but quickly sighed at himself in frustration. He couldn’t let her believe there was a possibility of her getting her happy ending out of this. And maybe partly to remind himself. 

"Hermione. It doesn't really matter what I think or believe about muggles. At the end of the day, I'm not going to switch sides. You know that, don’t you?" So much for getting his day in heaven. Hermione looked more confused than mad.

"How could you say that? You would keep supporting a cause even if you thought it was wrong? Turn your head and close your eyes to the harm the people you support are causing? That's cowardly even for a Slytherin." Her anger had been made clear at her tone, but it was nothing to the anger Malfoy felt at her words, like a slap in the face.

"I am not a coward." His voice had slipped into its dangerous whisper, and he knew the emotion was clear in his face he continued anyway "You have no idea what I am doing, or why I am doing it. You think you have the answers…

“Guess what Hermione, the good guy doesn't always win, the dragon cannot always be slain, and the 'fallen' can, and will, reject your 'redemption' no matter how righteous you think your cause is."

Malfoy had expected for Hermione to be even angrier at his proclamation, but she only seemed sad.

"Your mother…" It was barely above a whisper, and Draco was pretty sure she hadn't meant to say it out loud, but he had heard and it made his heart pound.

What did she know? If the Order knew about his mother, they might know about his plan. If they knew about his mother they could make things so much more difficult.

He pictured a game of tug-of-war, with his mother in the middle, painfully pulled between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, and him relegated to the sidelines no matter how he tried to help.

Now they could be pawns for two power hungry crackpot wizards instead of one.

"What did you just say, Granger?" His voice was low and slow, but the tension in it was almost palpable. He placed his hands flat on the table between them to stop them from shaking. Hermione only shook her head slowly back and forth, as though trying to deny she had said anything. A few muggles were glancing at their table worriedly, wouldn't that just be the cherry on top? Muggle police being called on him.

"Follow me."

She followed without a word, and they went back into the chilly breeze. Malfoy didn't know where they were, but he walked quickly, making Hermione almost jog to keep up. Eventually, they came across another alley, much larger than the one they had occupied earlier, but with a few boxes and bins, they could stand behind, away from muggle prying eyes.

"You need to tell me _exactly_ what you know about my mother. I will know if you are lying to me." Though Draco had only started learning over the summer, his legilimency was sufficient to break into the mind of someone with no occlumency training - which he assumed included Hermione. It was an invasion of privacy, but he had to know what she knew. For now, he would just open her mind enough to see if she was telling the truth.

Time or the cold, or both seemed to have brought Hermione back to her senses. "I am not one of your Slytherin soldiers, Malfoy," she was getting almost as good as he was at spitting out a name. "You do not get to shout directions at me and expect me to obey."

She looked at him more closely and after pausing for a second continued "You also do not need to attempt to intimidate me to get me to do something for you. Asking is generally considered more polite."

Malfoy's anger was subsiding, but his anxiety was not. Instead of replying he just raised his eyebrow at her, not accepting the reprimand, but not continuing with his forcefulness either. This seemed to be enough for Hermione, at least for the moment.

"I don't know much. Anything really. I just know that your mother is being held, and punished somehow until you complete a task for Voldemort." She held up a hand to stop Malfoy from asking the next obvious questions. "No, I don't know what your task is. No, I don't know any details about your mother's punishment, except I’m assuming, the Cruciatus Curse. And finally, no, I’d rather not tell you how I know this, but no one else of any importance knows."

Malfoy looked at her, searching her face. He knew she hadn't lied outright, but half-truths were a lot more difficult than to sense than lies. "How long have you had this information?"

"Around the time we started working on the potion together."

"And why have you not said anything about it to me?"

"Did you see your reaction just barely?"

"Fair enough…" Malfoy's heart was slowing down, marginally. It seemed nothing much had changed with this information. Except that Hermione had known his motivations all along. He wanted to know how she had found out, but, that didn't make too much of a difference, and he didn't want to push it too far except… "Can anyone else find out? The same way you did I mean?"

"No, impossible. Unless there are some time turners left hidden somewhere."

That was a relief. And an odd observation to make. What did Hermione know about time turners? A question for another time. Malfoy's head was spinning with too much information, and he deflated slightly.

\---

Hermione was still a little annoyed at Draco's behavior, but it was hard to be angry when she knew the reasons behind it. And especially while he was standing there looking like a man going to his death.

"Let's get to wherever it is you decided on in wizard London, get the potion taken care of, then maybe after we will have a few hours to kill?" She would love to relax for a little bit, but, she didn't know exactly how long it would take to get everything sorted with the potion, and it was always better safe than sorry.


	26. Chapter 26

During their walk back to the tube both of them were silent, not the tension filled, somewhat exciting silence from after the kiss. But, a more distracted, though companionable silence. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. At one point Malfoy put his arm around Hermione's waist to direct her out of the path of a large puddle she had not seen and had left it there as they continued, pulling her closer to him, hand resting lightly on her hip.

Hermione was so lost in her thoughts she was almost surprised when they reached their entrance, though she had been the one leading the way. Again getting their tickets and joining the throng on the train, they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione leaned against Malfoy's side while they sat, simply enjoying the warmth and closeness. Who would have guess Draco would be so comfortable. So comfortable that Hermione was more than a little disappointed when they reached their stop. But, she slowly got up and lightly took his hand - to help direct him through the crowd, of course - and they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

They stopped outside the ragged entrance before going in. This was going to be a little bit difficult as they really shouldn't be seen together. And Malfoy probably shouldn't be seen at all. Without magic until in the more populated areas, Hermione and Malfoy had decided that muggle methods of concealment would have to be enough, and she quickly pulled a large hat and scarf from her bag.

With the hat on low to cover all of his hair, and the scarf around the lower half of his face, only Draco's eyes would give him away. Glad for the chill weather to excuse Draco's extra layers Hermione pushed open the door that all the muggles seemed to be glancing past and entered the Leaky Cauldron.

The warmth and cheerfully chatter inside this place always made Hermione happy, and she had a desperate impulse to stay, but she knew better. Both for the sake of time and her companion the quicker they got where they were going the better. With a quick wave at Tom behind the bar, Hermione led the way out the back door to the entrance to Diagon Alley. Pulling out her wand and opening the brick wall she took a step back to allow Draco to take the lead.

Muttering under her breath Hermione cast a variation of the disillusionment charm on Draco. It wouldn't hide him or camouflage him like the disillusionment charm, but would make people’s eyes slide off of him, simply not notice him. At least so long as he didn't draw attention to himself.,

Their trip through Diagon Ally went smoothly, and much sooner than Hermione would have liked, they were turning to Knockturn Alley. Not that Hermione ever would have been particularly happy to turn down this particular line of shops. It was almost like the sun had just decided not to shine on this row, and Hermione was sure the temperature was at least ten degrees cooler.

With the shops packed so tightly and so little light, if you didn't know where you were going you would have to practically stop in front of each shop to see what it was for. And even then, Hermione thought as her eyes jumped from one window to another, it seemed like their true purpose was often hidden just behind the drawn curtains.

Thankfully, Draco seemed to know exactly where they were going. As he walked down the narrow street Hermione was forcefully reminded of the few times she had seen his father. Despite his covered face and hair, the way he walked, with his chin just slightly higher than natural, and long purposeful strides, shouted that he was not someone to be trifled with. The other witches and wizards walking the street all shied away from him, intentionally avoiding eye contact. Hermione wondered if her spell had stopped working, or if Draco's attitude simply demanded that he be noticed. She was pretty sure it was the latter.

After scurrying to stay in Draco's wake for what felt like an hour, but was probably no more than five minutes, he finally stopped at a nondescript door in a nondescript line of businesses. That seemed to be the theme here. While every shop in Diagon Ally tried their best to stand out, every place here seemed to be doing everything they could to blend in.

"This is where we will brew the potion. They rent out potions rooms for our purpose. Not everyone has one in their house - or wants the people in their house to know what they are brewing." He looked over Hermione with an appraising eye reaching out to straighten her coat, and tuck a few stray curls from her face back behind her ear. "You are altogether too distinct Hermione." But he grinned before he turned to push open the door.

Not sure if she should feel offended or complimented Hermione followed Malfoy slowly through the door. Looking around she was a little disappointed to see just a small wooden desk in a corner with an old witch behind it. She had been expecting something much more nefarious.

"Room for Alfred Enderton." Malfoy's voice was clipped and short as he addressed the witch, but she barely even acknowledged him. Hermione quickly muttered the counter curse to her previous spell, but it seemed that it was simply the witch’s demeanor. She held an old key out to him while marking something on a sheet behind her.

"207."

Malfoy took the key briskly and turned down the hallway behind and slightly to the right of the desk. Noticing Hermione's baffled face at the exchange Draco leaned down to whisper in her ear "Anonymity is highly valued in places like this. The less the shop hears and sees the less they are liable for knowing."

Though the explanation made sense, it only heightened Hermione's already on edge nerves. They found their room and walked in. Again, Hermione was slightly disappointed at its appearance. Not that she wanted to be in a dark and dangerous place but, this looked more similar to the classroom they had been working in than a secret, made for illegal and dangerous activity, potions room deep in Knockturn Alley.

"It's so… regular."

Malfoy laughed at her statement, taking the bag she had been carrying from her shoulder "Did you expect a few more skulls on the wall? Maybe the Dark Mark floating in the corner?"

Hermione just continued to look around for a moment before turning to help Malfoy unpack the bag. She had shrunk all of their ingredients down before leaving school, not wanting to carry an obviously full bag through the streets, especially the street they had just left. When they had unpacked everything and arranged it accordingly, they both took a step back and looked at their table.

"Once more for old times sake?" The mood was suddenly heavy, and Hermione had meant the joke to come out playful, but it sounded depressed, even to her own ears. She did not want this to be the last time she worked with Draco. She was not ready for whatever it was they had to end. But, after tonight, it would.

Draco looked up at her, his eyes seemed darker than usual, his mouth in a straight line.

"For old time's sake." and he stepped forward, beginning the process.

They worked as smoothly as ever, not speaking or getting in each other's way. There was more casual touching now, a hand on the shoulder as Draco passed behind her, fingers brushed down his arm as she took the vial from his hand, but nothing to interrupt the flow of their work. They were as efficient and focused as ever. Both of them picking up on the solemn mood.

\---

Long before Draco wanted it to happen, they were done brewing. Taking a step back he conjured a cup, filling it with their new potion, and turned to hand it to Hermione.

Her eyes were filled with trepidation, and her hand shook slightly as she took it from him. Clearly, the reality of what he was about to do was hitting her as well. 

After taking the potion they did their first two tests again, cutting her hand, breaking her bone. A small part of Draco had almost wished something would go wrong at this point, but it didn't, and now it was time for him to cast the Cruciatus Curse on Hermione.

She silently handed him her wand and stepped back. 

She standing still about five feet in front of him, staring, eyes wide but determined. Her wand felt warm and comfortable in his hand. Her magic responding to him, and he tried to take what comfort he could in it. 

He had not lied to Hermione when he was describing the dangers of casting an unforgivable. Even standing here, a small part of Draco's brain was almost… excited for what he had to do. Excited to feel the addictive, numbing effects.

You had to mean it - that's what his aunt had taught him about casting the curse. And it was true, especially the first time. But, once you did it that first time, you needed the desire to hurt the person less and less and the desire to simply do the spell slowly began taking over. He had only cast successfully a handful of times, and he could remember each one in excruciating detail. He did not want to hurt the witch in front of him. In fact, there were few things that he wanted to do less than hurt Hermione. So he had to let his desire to cast the spell and feel its effects, take control.

If he could do that the intent and desire to hurt would follow.

Draco closed his eyes, searching for that dark place in his mind. The place that had been growing ever since the Dark Lord's return. Dark rooms and cold looks, not letting any spark of life show. He opened his eyes and saw Hermione looking at him in concern and it began to fade.

No, he couldn't let her intrude. Dark, empty room, cold hard faces...

That stupid witch. Trying to take him away from everything he had ever known, everything he knew was correct. Always thinking that she was right, always thinking that she knows better. Her and her friends were making his life a living hell. Hurting his mother, making everything worse. None of them had any idea what they were doing, walking around, controlling people around them like they had any right like they knew better than anyone else…

"Crucio!"

The rush of anger left his body, traveling through his wand. He couldn't keep the satisfied grin off of his face as he welcomed the numbing darkness that began to envelop him. The little bitch. Let her feel just a fraction of the pain he felt, the pain he lived with. Give her a taste of what it meant to be part of the real world, not playing their stupid little games. This is pain. This is life. This is what happens when you assume.

"Draco." There was urgency in the voice saying his name, but it was far away, unimportant.

"Draco!" His eyes snapped open suddenly and he saw the witch in front of him, lying on the floor, calling his name.

But she smiled.

"Draco, it worked!"

What worked? How could she be happy now? She wasn't even taking her punishment correctly, damn this stupid girl, always defying what was expected, what should be.

"Draco?"

And now she was concerned? It was too much. Time to let the darkness take him, fill him. Then he wouldn't need to worry about incongruent witches with eyes bright and full of concern. Empty rooms and cold eyes take him, take him where he could just be. Just be and not worry, and not stress. Just exist.

"Draco…" Her hand touched his arm and he jumped away from it. The warmth of her hand was like fire in his darkness. But she did not relent. Grabbing both of his arms she forced his eyes to meet hers "Draco! Tell me what you need."

What I need? The confusion must have shown on his face and the witch shook her head, eyes shinier than they had been a moment ago. She wrapped her arms around him, holding tight. Spreading fire to every part of him. No matter how he tried the fire chased out the safety of the dark.

Draco did not know how long they stood like that, but, eventually, he came back to himself. Or, rather, he slowly gained the desire to be himself again. He remembered that it was not just some witch holding him, but Hermione. Hermione Granger, a mudblood. A mudblood whose arms felt better than any he could ever remember. Hermione who had wanted him to cast the curse on her. Hermione who was muttering under her breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. So sorry"

Draco found himself rubbing small circles on her back as she pulled him closer. He didn't know what Hermione had seen after he cast the curse on her, but, apparently at least some of his thoughts had been clear on his face. The anger, followed by such unattached apathy. He was sure it hadn’t been pleasant. Especially to see in someone you were close to.

Were they close? As he inhaled her now familiar scent, resting his head on her shoulder, he figured that they must be. As much as he wouldn't have believed it at the beginning of the school year, he was perhaps closer to Hermione than he was any of his Slytherin friends. More perhaps than anyone except his mother.

Stepping back he put his hands on Hermione's shoulders, looking into her face. His smile felt at odds with the person he had been not twenty minutes ago, but he couldn't seem to keep it away. "We did it Hermione, we did it."

Her face had shown concern when he first pulled away, but as his words, she mirrored his expression, if a little more tentatively. "We did, didn't we?

"Draco, I… I had no idea. I'm so sorry I asked you to do that. You… Are you ok?"

He shook his head, collecting his thoughts. "I wasn't. But I will be. The effects actually dissipated more quickly than normal this time." he looked at her searchingly, watching the slight color rise on her cheeks.

Hermione cleared her throat "So… Now what?"

"Now I brew more of this, put it in preservative bottles, and send it to my mother. While you take our recipe and share it with the Order so they can better defend against the Dark Lord."

"Right."

"Right."

"So, now what?" Her meaning had been clear the first time but, Draco had answered the question he actually had an answer to, not the one she had asked.

"I don't know…"

"Yeah."

"Look, Hermione…"

He just couldn't stop looking into her eyes. His hands were still resting on her shoulders, and he thought it should probably be awkward, standing here like this. But, he didn't want to move. Once either of them moved, they would have to keep moving. Hermione knew what was going to happen next, he knew what was going to happen next. What had to happen next... Neither of them wanted it to. The look in Hermione's eyes was desperate, almost pleading. Like if he tried hard enough he could possibly think of something that would change their situation. He would do almost anything, but, the thought of his mother, and what they would do to her...

Draco finally moved his hand, sliding it slowly up to the nape of Hermione's neck, his other dropping to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. This kiss was much different than their last.

Slow and soft, Hermione's lips formed against his, melting, before opening for his tongue.

Their desperation quickly caught up with them and they pulled each other closer, not wanting to let go. Tasting, exploring, experiencing with an almost violent fervor. As though it was their last chance to touch.

It might be their last chance to touch.

At that thought, Draco could barely contain his need to be close to Hermione. His tongue was in her mouth, tasting her, trying to commit it to memory, his hand pulled at her tucked in undershirt desperate for the soft warm skin underneath. He was almost painfully hard, and his erection was pressed firmly against her, he knew she could feel it, and the idea of Hermione feeling his firmness caused a moan to escape from his lips. At the noise, she pulled him even tighter against her.

Hermione moved from kissing his mouth to follow the line of his chin, down his throat, until she was stopped by the collar of his shirt. Draco's head was back, and his eyes closed, his senses overwhelmed by her mouth, and the pressure between them. But, his head jerked up when he felt her fingers at his shirt, undoing the buttons there, and slowly exposing his chest. She trailed kisses after her fingers and Malfoy's breath hissed between his lips and he watched her.

They were in a potions room in the middle of Knockturn Alley and this was a ridiculously terrible idea. But, at this moment it was all that Draco wanted, and apparently, what Hermione wanted as well.

Malfoy pulled back, shirt completely unbuttoned, the distance between them making him feel the slight chill of the room. He leaned forward to continue kissing Hermione but walked her back until they were against the now empty table they had put their ingredients on. Running his hands slowly down her back he continued down, pulling her even closer against him, and he lifted her the few inches to the table top so that she could sit on the edge. Hermione responded by wrapping her legs tightly around him, pulling him forward yet again.

Draco's hand found the soft skin under her clothes again, this time lifting them off, leaving Hermione in only her bra and skirt. Their kiss had been interrupted, but Hermione had begun to kiss other parts of him, exploring his chest with her mouth. Trailing a hand down from her neck, over the side of a breast then forward. Draco paused when he reached the top of her skirt with his fingertips. Mirroring his movement's Hermione's hand found the top button of his trousers, but instead of hesitating, she deftly undid the button and pulled down the fly. Her hand was unbelievably warm as it pressed between his trouser front and the thin silk of his boxers and he couldn't help but press back in return, pushing his cock more firmly into her grip. Draco pulled on Hermione's skirt and panties roughly, sliding them underneath her, and down onto the floor.

Hermione pushed his trousers down in return before tightening her legs around him once more. Draco was completely absorbed by the feeling of himself against her, almost nothing between them. He leaned down to capture her mouth again and was soon lost in the world that was Hermione's body. Touching, smelling, tasting, he couldn't get enough. Hermione broke away for a quick second to send his boxers to the floor to meet his trousers before pressing against him even more firmly.

"Hermione, is this… " The words pulled them back slightly, but if she hadn't done this before it would mean being much more careful, he did not want to hurt her.

"Yes. Draco, it's fine, please just-" She didn't finish her sentence, just as she hadn’t let him finish his, but instead reached between them, grabbing his cock, and lined the head firmly against her entrance.

Draco's breath escaped from him. He almost lost his control at just that soft touch. But slowly he pushed forward, letting himself fill her, feeling her body adjust. His eyes met hers as they both exhaled, and he let out a small chuckle.

But this had been building for too long for him to remain still, and he began thrusting in and out in a slow steady rhythm building. His mouth found the small pill of her nipple and as he began sucking he heard her moan under his tongue, wriggling slightly at the sensation.

Seeing Hermione's pleasure was doing almost more for him than feeling his own, and he quickly moved a hand between them, gliding over her clit, gently at first, but soon speeding up to meet the increasing rhythm of his thrusts. Hermione's moans increased in volume until he felt her body tense under him as she was taken by her climax. The muscles tightening around his cock demolished the little control he had remaining, and Malfoy's release came quickly after hers.

Knees weak he needed both hands on the table to hold himself up, Hermione laid back between his arms, her chest rising and falling deeply from their exertion.

Draco had thought before that he didn't want the moment to end. But this moment, this woman. Here, between his arms, inside of her…

He straightened, sliding his hands between her back and the table to pull her up into his arms. Skin on skin, her chest against his, feeling each other's warmth in the slightly chilled room. He couldn't tell his heartbeat from hers. 

"Draco, I… I don't want to leave this room." She finished with a chuckle but clung to him a little tighter.

"I know."

But they had to. And almost synchronized they let their hands fall, slowing gathering their clothes and getting dressed again. They didn't say anything as they picked up the room, but Draco felt there wasn't much to be said. No words could encompass what he was feeling, they would only bring the real world crashing down even harder than it already was.

Hermione walked forward and pulled the hat and scarf out of Draco's hand. Slowly, and with purposeful motions, she tugged the hat gently over his head, brought the scarf up, kissed him softly, quick as a blink, then wrapped it securely around his face.

Once everything was set they both paused looking around the empty room.

\----

The walk back down Knockturn alley seemed to take much less time than their walk up. Hermione didn't want it to end. How many times had she that that today?

This time, instead of walking in his wake, she walked next to Draco, holding his hand. She knew it was more dangerous, but didn't want space between them. Not before it had to be there. 

When they reached the entrance to Diagon Alley Hermione was surprised to see it was almost as dark as the street they were leaving, The time it took to make the potion felt like only a moment, but they had been there for over six hours, and it was well past nightfall. They paused at the entrance to the more cheerful lively street. It felt crass, a mockery of their current mood.

Draco directed them to the corner, out of the way of most of the shoppers. Meeting her eyes, he briefly raised a hand, brushing another of her misbehaving curls behind her ear.

He closed his eyes briefly, and nodded, before finally turning and walking purposefully in the other direction.

He would be going to his home. Who knew what he could expect to find there. Hermione wanted to stop him, prevent him from walking back into that place. But, that was his world. That is where he needed to be. Hermione felt sure he thought about muggles differently than he had before but, he had been right. It didn't change anything.

Couldn't change anything.

What did she expect him to do? Leave his mother to the wolves? Join the side of the war that openly hated him and his family? Realizing she had not moved since he had walked away and melted into the small crowd of people, Hermione turned in the other direction and began walking. She would floo to her parent's house, whose fireplace had been set up since their fourth year, and in a couple of days meet up with Harry and Ron.

And then her life would continue.

And she would study, and spend time with her friends. And try to find a way to defeat Voldemort… And for some reason, it all just seemed a little less important to her right now than it usually did.


	27. Chapter 27

For Draco, the winter holiday was spent mostly as anticipated. That is, a lot of time wasted in his rooms avoiding any Death Eaters that happened to be stopping by. There were only two days left until he had to return to Hogwarts, and he had been successful, for the most part.

Wormtail was particularly hard to shake, and seemed to try to follow him around any time he left his rooms. Draco was not sure if this was because Wormtail had been ordered to watch him, or if he was simply desperate for attention. It seemed everyone else had become as effective at avoiding Wormtail as Draco had been at avoiding everyone - but Wormtail.

Draco had learned some interesting things from Wormtail sure - like that Potter had saved his life, or that he had been the one to betray Potter's family (a fact he seemed to be quite proud of). But after that, Wormtail seemed to have nothing better to disclose than the inner workings of the Weasley family - specifically Ron and Percy - and Draco, simply not being able to stand any more, had cast a silencing spell on him, leaving him leg locked outside in the cold.

He had taken his inspiration from Hermione of course. Though, he imagined she would have been unhappy about the leaving him in the cold part. She could be much too soft, he thought, trying in vain to suppress the small smile that came from thinking about her.

The winter break had been useful for one thing - it had given Draco time to think. Unfortunately, it seemed no matter how much time he had to think, he couldn't come to any conclusions.

How is it that a lifetime of learning had been so upturned by just a few days? It wasn't so much the things he had learned that were throwing him off either, but the fact that he had even had to learn them. Why weren't they taught more about muggles or muggle science? Besides the fact that, if integrated into magic, it could do astounding things - was the fact that you should understand your subjects - to put it bluntly.

The Dark Lord, the Death Eaters, his father, they all meant to rule the muggles, but how could they do that if they did not even know how they worked, how they lived their lives? He had no doubt there could be a magical means of preventing pretty much any muggle technology from harming them - but only if they knew about it. Yet no one seemed to care. It seemed thoughtless. It seemed stupid.

Draco shook his head as he walked back into his rooms, watched constantly by the careful eyes of his ancestors in the portraits along the wall. They seemed happy enough to report to the Dark Lord, most answered to him now without question. At first Draco had thought it was odd for a portrait to make an independent decision like that, but, he figured it really wasn't a new decision, they were just following their nature as it had been when they had lived - cold, calculating, and seeking the praise of the few that they saw as superior.

He had been trained to behave like that. But, he had also been trained in the way of politics. His father had always emphasized the same things - holding power, finding the right people to back, utilizing any advantage. Which was all fine. But Draco saw the Minister of Magic, his followers, and they were all puppets. The face of power but not the brains – that had always been people like his father. So, if Draco was really to be in a position of power would he be the face or the brains?

He rather liked to think of himself as both. But that meant not just back door dealings as he had been taught, but also public actions. Actions that made people want him in power. Those behind the scene had their power in fear and manipulation. But, to be the face of power you had to be liked, and have at least a modicum of reason (or be advised by those that did). So why were those around him so happy to just play the game behind the public's back? Why aim for shadow games and deceit when you could run the game? But, the more Draco learned about the game the more it seemed he was playing without knowing all the rules. And that was no way to win.

So why? Why hide the muggle's advanced technology? Why hide their progress away?

Draco almost laughed at the realization that the blood-traitor wizards that were sympathetic to the mudbloods actually had known more about the 'game' than he had - for all his training and preparation.

It was ridiculous.

He had finally reached his room, and, sat down once again at his desk. Draco had been trying to compose a letter to Hermione all break. But, he had no idea what to say. Mostly because, no matter what he thought, it didn't change a damn thing.

He had said as much to Hermione before they had said goodbye, and it was still true. His mother was more important. Draco honestly had no idea how his mother felt about the Dark Lord and his father's decision to join the Death Eaters. She had refused to join officially, scoffing at the idea of some 'great ugly mark marring her lovely white skin' as she put it when it had just been the two of them. But she never objected to his father joining, or anything he had done since. But, maybe she had a similar hesitation as Draco was having now... He simply did not know.

To Draco's great annoyance he had only been around his mother in the company of others. Whether this was by design or coincidence, he did not know. But it was endlessly frustrating either way. He had not yet had an opportunity to give her the potion that he had created with Hermione. She put on airs whenever she had seen him, but Draco could tell that she was drawn, and her hand often shook as she held her teacup. Those small signs of weakness in women once so rigid spoke volumes to Draco, even if no one else seemed to notice. He needed to get that potion to her. And, he was pretty sure that he had a plan.

The foremost problem that Draco could see would be if the Dark Lord became aware of the existence of the potion. It would be seen as a move directly against him, a direct contraction of the Dark Lord's wishes. And Draco could not afford that. Both himself and his mother would be punished. Severely.

His plan was… possibly very foolhardy. No, not possibly; definitely. It was asinine. And he never would have even considered it without Hermione's influence, but… he really couldn't think of anything else.

Whenever his father had needed to infiltrate another powerful house, whether to gain information or, Draco assumed on a few occasions, tamper with their food, he utilized the servants.

"Never underestimate the amount of access an unassuming servant may have. And never trust to your own servant's loyalty."

The first part he was counting on. The second part, well… Gryffindors seemed to inspire loyalty. He just hoped he wouldn't be over estimating it.

It was silly really, he didn't even know if it would work anymore. Draco had, of course, heard his father rage about the incident after it had happened, and Hermione had let some information slip once when Draco had mentioned Potter's hero worship… he really was making way too many assumptions here.

But he knew better than to assume his mother's room or person wouldn't be searched. There was nowhere in the house where he felt safe hiding the potion. And his mother seemed to be in almost constant company, so even if he did hide it somewhere she would have no access to it.

No. This was the only way. He had to go through the servants. A house full of them - but no way to know which would answer to him and which to the Dark Lord. The house elves were still bound to the Malfoy name. But, with his father in Azkaban, it was unclear whether they would answer to his heir, Draco, or the new master of the manor, the Dark Lord.

There was nothing for it then, it had to be done. Draco took a deep breath and cast a silencing spell on his doorway - he anticipated this encounter would be more than a little noisy.

"Dobby."

He counted to five, but there was nothing. He knew Dobby could hear his call, house elves heard when anyone called them, even if it wasn't their master. But now he had the free will to choose not to come.

"Dobby!"

Draco counted to five again. He really wasn't sure how to proceed if this did not work. He turned back to face his desk and put his head in his hands to think. Obviously this would not work. He needed some other way.

It was nearly five minutes later when he was startled almost to fall out of his chair by a loud *POP* and a subsequent shout.

"No! Dobby is a free elf! M-Master Malfoy has no r-right to call Dobby anymore! Harry Potter has freed Dobby, and Dobby w-will not a-answer anymore!"

The small elf seemed on the verge of some very strong emotion, but Draco could not figure out what. Possibly because the elf couldn't either. Dobby stood up tall, with his slight chest out, as though full of pride but, at the same time reached to grab the broomstick leaning against Draco's desk, seeming about to knock himself over the head with it.

Fighting his urge to laugh at the creature, Draco quickly grabbed the broom from his hand and set it aside. He kneeled down in front of the elf and put his hands on his knobby little shoulders. Draco had a difficult time doing this, and felt quite stupid for it in fact - Hermione may have shown him many things, but Draco still saw house elves first and foremost as servants. And to talk to one like an equal... Well, Draco considered it quite beneath him. But he needed this to work. And Hermione had said that all it had taken for Dobby to listen to Potter was… courtesy. He had a hard time not rolling his eyes just thinking about it. 

Trying to retain what little pride he had in such a ridiculous position Draco turned to his former house elf.

"Dobby, I would appreciate if you would stay and listen to what I have to say."

The elf seemed shocked to stillness, but didn't respond immediately, on sudden inspiration Draco added; "It will mean helping Harry Potter."

"M-Master is a bad wizard... Harry Potter does not like Master Malfoy."

Draco was glad that he had kept his hold on the elf because at this statement he reached again for something to hit himself with. He had never seen a house elf so conflicted before, no wonder they didn't want to be free, how would they know who to follow? What to say and do? 

"I am not my father, Dobby. And I need your help."

"Master D-Draco is bad like his father…"

Draco cringed at the memories of yelling at the house elves, laughing at them while they cleaned up after him. Possibly he had been over the top, but never cruel to them like his father… He didn't think… Ugh, he was having a hard time controlling his annoyance at this whole situation. Asking a house elf for help. Asking! He took a few breaths to try to steady himself.

"Dobby, will you just listen to me?" It came out rather harsher than he intended, and as the elf cringed he tried to mollify him "…please." He was gritting his teeth so tightly he wasn't sure at first if he had been heard, but Dobby's already large eyes seemed to grow out of his head and he landed with a small bump on the floor as his knees had given out under him.

"Dobby will listen."

Draco stood back up clasping his hands behind his back as he began to pace "I need to deliver a potion to my mother. She needs to have access to it on demand. But no one else can know about it. I do not know which of the house elves here are loyal to her and myself, and which are loyal to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord must not know of this potion. " He shot a look at the elf, this was certainly the longest silence he had ever experienced from Dobby, and he wasn't sure how to interpret it, so he just continued while the elf's eyes slowly moved back and forth following the path he was making across the floor.

"I need you to find an elf loyal to myself and my mother. One that has regular access to her. I cannot talk to them because, if loyal to the Dark Lord, I have no doubt they will report on my activities. If my activities are reported - I will likely be killed. As will my mother. But you lived here - you know the other elves. Will you help me Dobby?"

He could not believe he was putting his life in the hands of a house elf. This house specifically. Of all the inane ideas to have come up with… Draco was very much beginning to doubt the advisability of this plan when Dobby suddenly stood up and jumped onto his desk, bringing him only a foot or so below Draco's eye level.

"Dobby is wanting to help Harry Potter, not Master Malfoy. Harry Potter does not like the Master Malfoy. Dobby thinks this is Master Draco tricking Dobby!"

"This will help Harry Potter. He…" How would this help Potter? Draco was pretty sure Harry would not give a rat's ass about his mother. But he couldn't very well say that to the elf. But Hermione might be able to help convince him…

"It’s a surprise for Potter. He doesn't know about it yet. But his friend knows about it. Do you know Hermione Granger?"

"Missus Hermione makes Dobby wonderful hats! Dobby likes misuse Hermione very much."

Making hats? That was a skill he would not have guessed Hermione to have. And giving them to house elves… God, that was very not surprising.

"Potter trusts Hermione, right? Would you trust Hermione?"

"Dobby trusts Harry Potter's friends! But Dobby does not like keeping secrets from Harry Potter."

"Right, right, but look. Go to Hermione, find her when she is alone, make sure no one knows you are there, and ask her if you should help me. It must be a secret, but Hermione already knows about it."

"Ask Missus Hermione, if Dobby should trust Master Draco, and tell him which elves in his home is to be trusted?"

Draco just waited. Since arriving in his room the house elf had been a kaleidoscope of emotions. He was pretty sure he about two minutes away from simply exploding from the work his little brain was going through. Draco certainly did not want to rush that process, so he kept his mouth shut.

Checking his watch Draco realized he would be required to dinner soon, this had taken much longer than he had anticipated. But then again, who would have ever anticipated having to convince a house elf to obey you? Finally the elf gathered himself, standing as straight and tall as his tiny frame would allow. 

"Dobby will go. And Dobby will ask Harry Potter's friend if Master Draco should be listened to."

The elf looked about to hop off the desk, but paused for a second before doing so. His great green eyes locked on Draco and they seemed to shine with pride, the way a house elf does when they've just been asked to do something important but, there was something different about it. The orbs were not swimming with the tears of joy that Draco usually saw, in fact, they were rather clear, and defiant.

"Dobby is a free elf."

And with that, the elf was gone.

Draco's life could not be any more backward than it was right now. Asking a  _free_  house elf for help. Hiding in his own house. Willingly spending time in muggle London. With a mudblood. With Hermione. Gods, Hermione.

Despite the desperate situation Draco was in, a large portion of his holiday had been spent thinking about that witch. He justified this by the amount of time he had been forced to spend alone with only his thoughts for company. But, she seemed to creep into his mind even when he was with others.

He imagined her arguments to the things those around him said, how she could probably make a fool of all of them. Her quick wit, and the twinkle of mischief in her eye when she teased. The touch of her lips, her fingers on his bare chests. Draco felt warm just thinking about it.

And her laugh… before this year he didn't think he had ever heard her laugh. He was sure if he had heard that tinkling sound before he would have noticed her sooner. Her laugh forced his lips into a smile no matter how hard he fought it. And when she laughed with him, at things he said, and things she said to him...

Hermione was like a little splash of happy in the endless depression that had been consuming him since being assigned his task by the Dark Lord. He had no false hopes; he knew it was pointless to dream. But dreaming about her made him remember that there were good things in this world. And, even if he couldn't have her, even if she could never be his, he would never regret a moment spent in her company. Because it was those memories that were keeping him even slightly sane right now.

It was interesting, Draco thought, that the same memories could cause so much joy and so much pain at the same time. Like his heart was a top, spinning around and around from one feeling to the other until they almost felt like the same thing. He tried to clear himself of emotion as he entered the dining room for dinner; his mother and a few Death Eaters already sitting at the table.

Making no excuses for being late Draco made his way to the seat at the head of the table. It was still his house after all. He sat primly; chin up and eyeing those at the table, daring anyone to question his position. But no one did, and soon the house elves arrived with the food.

Draco certainly would not have taken this spot if he thought the Dark Lord would arrive, but he knew he would not. The Dark Lord had been here at the beginning of the holiday but, the day before Christmas he had gone, taking a handful of death eaters with him.

He had met briefly with Draco before he left, to be apprised of his progress. Draco had not met his expectations, or maybe the Dark Lord had simply been in a particular mood. Either way, Draco had been punished. Punished more severely than usual. The Dark Lord was not a patient man, and Draco wished he had had the foresight to take some of his own potion before the meeting. The Dark Lord had left Draco lying on the stone floor with a warning to proceed more quickly, and remorse that he would not be able to repeat his punishment while Draco was home due to other responsibilities. All while a circle of Death Eaters – adults – stood silently, watching on.

It was probably in that moment, while Draco was laying on the cold floor, covered in sweat and his own blood, watching the smooth departure of the man his father worshiped, that he could truly believe he was a mad man. He had always thought the other side exaggerated. But, he had also never been in very close contact with the Dark Lord - always admiring from afar.

The calm joy in those cold slits of eyes when he had been exacting Draco's punishment made Draco shiver every time he thought about it. The Dark Lord was powerful - there was no question about it. But if that look was not the look of insanity - Draco didn't know what was. 

But the Dark Lord was gone for now, and Draco's place was at the head of the table. He had sat here every night since the Dark Lord's departure, and every night the Death Eaters attempted to stare him down from his rightful position. That would not happen.

Dinner was a quiet, tense affair, as all of these dinners had been, and Draco could not wait for it to end. But he forced himself to take his time. Eating slowly as though he didn't have a concern in the world. A house elf tasted every dish before Draco and he had a brief flash of Hermione's outrage if she could see it, but it was a necessary precaution for a Malfoy.

\---

Hermione had just finished eating her dinner at a table full to the brim of loud and rowdy Weasleys, as well as a smattering of other members of The Order, and was walking to her and Ginny's shared room when she heard a *POP* and a whispered call;

"Misuses Hermione, please come!"

"Dobby?"

"Missus Hermione must be quiet! Please come hide with Dobby!"

Hermione could not fathom what Dobby wanted, or why he was hiding, but she entered the bathroom he was using as a hiding place and locked the door behind her.

"Dobby, what's going on? Is someone hurt?" She knew Harry was fine since she had just eaten with him, but she was constantly reminded that everyone around her was always in danger.

"No Missus Hermione, Dobby was sent by bad Master D-Draco." Used to Dobby's antics, Hermione had been standing close to Dobby and so was close enough to grab him before he could hit his head against the wall next to them.

"Master Draco?" What a disgusting title, she wished Dobby could get over his habit of calling people Master. But at Draco's name, some color had started to rise in her cheeks despite her annoyance at the title. Silly that a name should have such an effect on her. Before she could think much further, Dobby began practically to bounce with anxiety, his words rushing out loudly. Hermione whispered a quick silencing charm on the door before giving her full attention to the elf.

"...he said it was a surprise for Harry Potter, and that you would say to trust him. But Master Draco is a bad wizard, and Dobby does not trust him. No, he doesn't. But Dobby wants to be a help to Harry Potter and his friends. Missus Hermione is one of Harry Potter's greatest friends and would not do anything to hurt him." Dobby looked at her expectantly, but Hermione was utterly confused.

"I'm sorry Dobby, what are you asking me? What is a surprise for Harry?"

His eyes filled with happy tears at her polite words but he seemed to collect himself. He was getting better at that Hermione thought with a small smile.

"Dobby needs Harry Potter's friend to tell Dobby if he should trust Master Draco. Master Draco said he was doing something good. Something that would make Harry Potter happy. But Master Draco is tricky." The little elf seemed racked with confusion. Torn between helping his old master, someone he knew Harry hated, and possibly being able to surprise Harry with something.

But that was the problem, the only thing Hermione knew about was the potion, how could that be a surprise to Harry? "Dobby, did Draco say what he wanted you to do?"

Hermione listened as Dobby explained what Draco had asked of him. She hadn't considered the difficulty of getting the potion to his mother, they must be being watched more closely than she had assumed. Trying to push down her rising anxiety, she couldn’t help but be astounded that Draco had even thought of this plan.

 

Not only was he utilizing a house elf for something other than a menial task, he was using Dobby - which meant he actually had to  _ask,_ not command. She remembered mentioning Dobby to him once before, but hadn't said much once her brain caught up to her mouth and she remembered that he used to belong to Draco and his family. Draco was taking a lot of risks with this plan, putting trust in a house elf… He must be very desperate.

Luckily, house elves were much more than Draco thought of them. She still didn't get what the surprise for Harry was, but she thought it was possible that it had just been something Draco had said to get Dobby to listen.

"Dobby, you did good, thank you for asking me. I know it may be difficult, but, if you want to do this, you can absolutely trust Draco. He is doing something good, not something bad."

"Missus Hermione is sure?"

"Positive, I helped him with it. It is good. But… He was right. You can't tell Harry. This is a secret."

"Dobby is not liking keeping a secret from Harry Potter."

"I know. But it is important. He will find out eventually... How about this; when I surprise him with this I will call you, and I will tell him how much of a help you were."

Dobby's eyes overflowed with the tears and he began wailing "Dobby is proud to help Harry Potter, Dobby does not need Harry Potter's praise, but Missus Hermione offers to share with Dobby!"

Thankful for the silencing spell she cast Hermione waited for the wails to quiet, they had learned that this was the best way to react - trying to comfort him only made him cry harder.

"Dobby will do it. Dobby will help Harry Potter, even if it means helping Master Draco. Thank you missus Hermione!"

With a watery smile and a snap of his fingers, the elf was gone. Hermione stayed sitting on the floor thinking about Draco's plan.

Well, thinking about Draco actually. She had been trying to avoid thinking about him as much as possible. You would think it would have been easy with all the commotion at the Burrow but, she found her thoughts were much less willing to focus than they usually were.

It seemed ridiculous that so many things could remind her of Draco when they had only even been talking to each other for a few months. But damn near everything brought him to her mind. Not that she needed something to bring him to mind. No, she had to admit, he had quickly become a permanent fixture there. She could picture his smirk perfectly, challenging her – pushing her to actually think through her arguments. The power he exuded even when he wasn’t paying attention. But mostly his smile, when he wasn’t thinking about it. It transformed his whole face to something more… alive. His stormy eyes, his nimble powerful hands, his soft pressing lips… Hermione closed her eyes leaning back against the bathroom cabinet behind her.

Draco was truly something else. She had never been so captivated by someone. Physically and intellectually. She was pretty sure that was what had always been missing before. Sure Ron and Victor had their positives, but, both relationships had been short lived, Ron's had barely even started when they decided it wasn't going to work. She hadn't been able to pin down why before but, being able to spar intellectually with Draco was almost as much of a turn on as his smooth, solid chest, or his ever-smirking lips. Merlin, just letting herself sit and think about him was getting Hermione worked up.

Ever the practical one, Hermione continued to remind herself that nothing more would happen between them. She was glad, so glad that they had been together, glad she had that to remember. But she had no misconceptions about their respective positions. Draco could not turn sides. That would risk both his life and his mothers. No. Regardless of what he thought, or if Hermione had been able to get through to him, there was not anything he could do.

But… Maybe they would both make it through the war.

Maybe Draco would be able to minimize the part he played. Hermione's conscience shirked away from that thought, could she ever be with someone that participated in Voldemort's plans? Even if he didn't believe in them, even if she understood his reasons… No, it doesn't really matter either way. If there was so much between them now, she couldn't imagine the distance that would separate them after the actual fighting began.

She would keep her memories, cherish them but, that was it. It was bittersweet, and her heart ached for Draco and the position that he was stuck in. She couldn't imagine what he must be feeling and, she could only hope that their time together, the memories they had created, made things easier for him, and not worse.

With a sigh, Hermione got back to her feet. She would be back at Hogwarts in two days and she hadn't even started packing yet, and she still had two sets of notes to finish color-coding. She really had been slacking this holiday.


	28. Chapter 28

Despite all of his best efforts, Draco had not been able to speak to his mother alone all holiday. But the house elf, Dobby, had returned saying that he would assist Draco. Surprisingly, Dobby had actually been very helpful. None of the house elves were particularly fond of Draco or his father, but it seemed a few of them had the same obsession with Potter that Dobby possessed. Draco had never thought that he would appreciate Potter's devoted fan base, especially among his own servants. But right now at least, it was proving quite useful. They were more than happy to help prepare a 'surprise' for Potter.  Now he just had to let his mother know how to utilize them.

He had resorted to writing her a letter, and had spent most of the train ride to Hogwarts composing it. Sitting in the Slytherin compartment with his fellow sixth years he remained aloof, occasionally dishing out an insult, less occasionally a word of praise. An absent leader was no leader at all, and separating himself from them for both train rides would be pushing it.  
   
Watching his classmates Draco wondered how they felt about the war and the role they were expected to play in it. His fellow Slytherins; political allies, and stepping-stones. They seemed content enough now but, none of them had been pushed quite as hard as Draco - had not been drawn in quite as much. Would they follow him if he denounced the Dark Lord? Did he inspire that kind of loyalty, or just fear? It doesn't matter, Draco reminded himself, there would be no switching sides. Not for him.  
   
His mother's mail was being read, he was sure of it, but Draco was fairly certain the letter he had written was inconspicuous enough. He read it over for the third time, just to be sure.  
   
Dear Mother,  
   
     I wanted to express my appreciation for the wonderful holiday we were able to spend together. Your company was as pleasant as always. I regret that we did not have time to wrap presents together with father as is our tradition. I will surely be soothing the pain of my regret with a cup of tea. I have found that nothing quite eases pain like tea and sugar, especially when made by Winney. But the school house-elves will have to suffice for now (for me at least. I envy that you will have access to that elf's services whenever required). Until the Easter holiday, ever your loving son,  
      
Draco.  
   
The Malfoy's were accustomed to reading between the lines, and he was sure his mother would realize he was trying to get a message across - he just hoped she would be able to see what the message was. There was, of course, no Malfoy tradition of wrapping presents, a clear indication that the letter was saying more than the words on the page. Winney was the house-elf that Dobby had directed him to. She was possibly the smallest elf Draco had ever seen, and she had been positively shaking in Draco's presence. But, at Potter's name she had immediately cheered and become eager for the work, so Draco hoped she would be trustworthy enough. Draco had instructed her to add the potion to his mother's tea whenever she asked for tea with sugar. And never to add sugar. His mother hated sugar in her tea, and looked down upon anyone who added the extra sweetness. Draco had never in his life had tea with sugar in it and certainly, would never presume to sing it's praises to his mother.  
   
The devil was in the details. As is often the case. No one who was not intimate with his family would notice anything. Hopefully his mother would.   
   
"Draco, did anything exciting happen over the holiday?"  
   
"Exciting?" Draco kept his voice level, but his single eyebrow raising high on his forehead communicated his feelings clearly to Pansy. What an asinine question. Like they were children. She narrowed her eyes slightly at his unspoken reprimand but continued her questioning anyway.  
   
"You know what I mean Draco. Your house is basically the unofficial headquarters for the entire movement. Did you see the Dark Lord? Did you get to talk to him?"

He had a hard time not laughing at the eagerness in her voice. She really always had been the perfect sheep, so eager to please. She didn't realize though. None of them did. Everyone was listening attentively for any news Draco may have. Most of their parents were either Death Eaters or close to. But, even for Death Eaters information had been conspicuously hard to come by lately.  
   
"Yes, we spoke. However, the Dark Lord was occupied by other… tasks for the majority of the holiday." Draco had intentionally paused before choosing the word task - as though he had an idea of what they were, and had to be careful not to let the information out. It seemed to work as the sets of eyes watching him widened. Except possibly Nott's. But Nott had always been much better at hiding his emotions than the others. His Slytherin mask never slipped, not even around his fellow Slytherins.  
   
Draco wondered again whether his classmates would follow him if he were to leave the cause. They had been raised together from childhood - it was rare that an outsider was sorted into Slytherin. They had been more like brothers and sisters than peers Until recently. Draco felt a pang of regret at his self-imposed isolation.

But his task had to remain a secret. And now with the doubts he had been having... none of them would understand. Just as he wouldn't have understood a year ago. But he felt responsible for his Slytherins. Maybe older sibling was a better analogy than captain. Right now at least.

Draco was determined to spend more time with them this semester. Regardless of what happened with the war, he was one of them right now. And without all the time spent with Hermione… Well, it would keep his mind occupied at any rate.  
   
"Crabbe, have you been able to beat Goyle in an arm wrestle yet?" Draco laughed as the two immediately stood up to move into place to test their strength. It was a common contest and truthfully they were fairly evenly matched. But Crabbe was always been concerned about being stronger than Goyle. "Come on now, I've got two chocolate frogs on Goyle winning in under thirty seconds – who’ll take the bet?"  
   
Soon enough the Slytherin's were taking turns arm wrestling and betting, cajoling and catcalling the contestants, laughing all the while. It was nice to occasionally be reminded that they were only just past being children. Draco felt ages older than the laughing and wrestling students in front of him, but it was good to remind himself that they were not the same as their parents. He had to suppress a shiver at the memory of the cold eyes, watching as he had been tortured by the Dark Lord. There had been a large audience - he had been an example, and all had simply stared on, no emotion shown.  Some of his Slytherin's parents had definitely been among the group.  
   
But we are not our parents.  
   
And despite the hopelessness of Draco's current situation he felt a small surge of hope for, maybe not his future, but that of those around them. Those who had not yet been given tasks. Not yet met the Dark Lord. Maybe they could do the things he could not. If they ever had an opportunity.  
   
\---  
   
   
Hermione was anxious for class to be over. This was not a very common occurrence, especially since it was still only the first week after the holiday. But she was going to speak to Professor McGonagall once the lecture period ended, and excitement and anxiety were battling for dominance in her stomach.

She had broken quite a few rules in developing the pain blocking potion with Draco. But she was hoping the value of the potion would occupy McGonagall's mind enough to prevent her realizing that - or at least punishing Hermione too much over it.  
   
Hermione was also hoping to be able to tell McGonagall and Dumbledore at the same time. But, she knew Dumbledore had been gone from the school more than he had been here this year, and she didn't hold too much hope for that. She had decided to tell McGonagall about Draco's role – at least in a limited way, it did not feel right to take all of the credit, and Hermione felt it might go over better if Dumbledore was there.  
   
Finally, the class ended, and while the other students were still trying to put away their hedgehog's with various levels of resemblance to pin cushions, Hermione rushed up to the front of the classroom.  
   
"Professor McGonagall, I was wondering, do you have a moment to speak?" Hermione put on her best smile. She had transformed a flawless pincushion twenty minutes before class had ended, and she was hoping this extra effort would make the professor more amenable to speaking with her.  
   
"I may be able to spare a few minutes Ms. Granger. Would you like to move to my office?"  
   
"Well, Professor, I was actually wondering, well… Is there any way we could speak in Dumbledore's office? That is, I would like to speak to both of you. If that is possible?"  
   
McGonagall's eyes were narrowed, trying to figure out exactly what Hermione could need that she would not be sufficient for.  
   
"Dumbledore is a very busy man. Particularly at the present time. I would not presume to disturb him for anything that was not of the utmost importance."  
   
"Yes Professor, I understand. Does that mean he is here? I mean, yes, I believe both of you should hear what I have to tell you."  
   
"Misters Potter and Weasley are not about to go on another foolhardy and dangerous adventure are they?" Hermione could not tell if this statement was a joke or not, McGonagall looked serious as she said it, but it was so hard to tell with her.  
   
"No ma'am, this is quite good news actually."

Hermione was pretty sure the Professor McGonagall had calculated the exact amount of time it would take for her silence to make a student uncomfortable. Just as Hermione felt the need to squirm under the professor's stare she responded.  
   
"Very well, you are quite lucky that the Headmaster is here at the moment. Come with me and we will see if he has the time to spare."  
   
Hermione quickly grabbed her bag and followed McGonagall out of the room one step behind, letting the professor set the quick pace. The halls still contained a number of students. Although the last classes for the day had ended, no one seemed to too big of a hurry to make it back to their common rooms.  
   
Hermione was busy trying to keep up with McGonagall's long strides, her eyes on her feet trying to determine exactly how it was the professor could move so much more quickly than her without seeming to try. They turned a corner and due partly to her inattention, and partly (she was sure) to McGonagall's unnaturally quick pace, Hermione ran straight into something very solid. Very solid and very blond.  
   
Strong nimble hands grabbed her arms, preventing her from falling over completely and Hermione looked up into the familiar eyes she knew belonged to Draco. She had glanced him a few times since school had started up, across the great hall at meals, or at the other end of the hall on the way to class. But not this closely. Merlin, at the touch of his hands her mind and her body were forcefully reminded of the last time he had touched her, how they had touched her. Hermione could feel her heart in her throat, struggling to get out, but she couldn't even seem to make herself swallow it back down. She was completely frozen.  
   
His eyes were stormy gray, clouds running over a vibrant sky, and the surprise that had been there at their collision turned quickly into a small smile when her eyes met his.

Just as quickly though, the clouds took over, obscuring any sign of emotion at all. It was disconcerting how quickly he could do that. Hermione felt his hands fall off her arms and she dropped her own automatically in response. She hadn't even realized she had put her hand on his waste to stabilize herself after the almost-fall.  
   
The blush on Hermione's cheeks, she was sure, was reaching a critical level, and she quickly looked down at her hands.  
   
"Watch it, Granger." Draco turned and walked past her, knocking her shoulder roughly as he walked past making her stumble again. But when she turned to throw a retort back to him he had turned and was out of sight. McGonagall was staring down at her, a confused expression on her face.  
   
"Ms. Granger, are you alright?"  
   
"Yes, fine. No problem."  
   
McGonagall looked at her for just slightly longer than was necessary - damn her flushing cheeks - but eventually turned and resumed their walk to the Headmaster's office.  
   
Hermione was still reeling slightly from how strong her reaction had been to being so near Draco. It had been… unexpected. The warmth in his eyes followed so quickly by his cold remark had stung more than she wanted to admit.  
   
"Pumpkin pasties"  
   
It was difficult not to laugh at the severe voice of her professor saying something so childish to a stone gargoyle. Hermione wondered if that was the entire reason behind Dumbledore's ridiculous passwords and thought it was rather likely. But her train of thought was stopped soon after as their spiral accent ended and Professor McGonagall knocked curtly on the wide double doors in front of them.  
   
Hermione had never been in the headmaster's office, and she found it impossible to keep her eyes still. There were so many things; instruments, books, items that she couldn't even fathom the purpose of. So many questions popped into her head she had to consciously press her lips together to keep them in.  
   
Even with all the fascinating instruments around the office, Hermione was surprised her eyes hadn't immediately been drawn to Dumbledore when she walked in. The headmaster was sitting behind his desk, the appearance of calm and serene, but something made Hermione feel that before they walked into the room, he had been anything but. The usual twinkle in his eye was more like fire and she shied away from the contact, noticing the pensive on his desk as she looked down to her feet. What new memories had he found that could possibly unsettle him like they appeared to have done?  
   
"Ms. Granger has requested an audience with both of us Headmaster if you have a moment. She has assured me that it is good news." Professor McGonagall's voice seemed almost tentative and Hermione was sure she was not the only one that had noticed Dumbledore's mood. But, Dumbledore's voice held none of the fire that was in his eyes when he spoke, and Hermione dared a look back up.  
   
"Certainly Ms. Granger, good news is always welcome in these times." His expression now matched the calm of his posture, no trace of the former emotions on his face as he looked at her expectantly.  
   
"Yes. Well, um. It, well, it is kind of a long story." Why did she always seem to lose her words when she was speaking to a professor? Clearing her throat Hermione continued more strongly "I have developed a potion that blocks the effects of the Cruciatus Curse."  
   
Her statement was met with silence. Dumbledore's expression was the same cheerful calm - giving nothing away, but McGonagall's mouth was slightly open and her eyes narrowed betraying her disbelief.  
   
"I am sure that would be a great discovery Ms. Granger, were it accurate. But I am afraid it is simply impossible." McGonagall was regaining her confidence as she spoke, clearly getting over her confusion. "The Cruciatus Curse is based on both the old magics and very dark magic. You would need a thorough understanding of both to even begin to develop such a potion. There is a reason it has not been done."  
   
That made Hermione pause for a moment. She knew her and Draco both had been taking into account the old magic and how to counter act that. But had Draco known about the dark magic? Surely, since they had been successful he had. He must have done even more than she had thought while they had been figuring the potion out.  
   
"I know it may seem unlikely. But it’s the truth. I have the potion here. And it has been thoroughly tested. It was adapted from an already existing potion." Hermione said this all very quickly and hoped that the professor's had understood her. But they were just looking at her as though trying to determine if she should go to the hospital wing or straight to St. Mungo's.  
   
Professor McGonagall addressed her again, slowly, as though explaining a difficult concept to one of the slower students "Ms. Granger. I understand the need to help. But the thing you suggest is simply not done. Even if you developed a strong pain potion, the possibility of it blocking the Cruciatus Curse is remote. And there is simply no way to test that."  
   
"Casting the Cruciatus curse would effectively test it."  
   
Hermione tried not to smile at the small gasp McGonagall let out at that statement "Ms. Granger if you are suggesting we subject someone to the Cruciatus Curse with only the use of an unknown potion to protect them -"  
   
"No, Professor McGonagall. I am telling you I was subjected to the Cruciatus Curse with only the use of my unknown potion to protect me. And it works."  
   
If professor McGonagall had looked confused before she was couldn't look more gob smacked now if Voldemort himself waltz into the room in swim-wear. Dumbledore had been watching the exchange with apparent calm interest but now he was subjecting Hermione to his penetrating gaze. Like he could read her mind. Hermione thought with a shock that he actually probably could, and quickly tried to not think about anything embarrassing. Which quickly made her think about everything embarrassing. But he merely turned his slightly grim expression to McGonagall.  
   
"It would seem that Ms. Granger may have accomplished the impossible Minerva. Please have a seat, both of you. I believe Hermione has quite an interesting story to tell us."  
   
As he spoke Dumbledore conjured two squishy pink armchairs in front of his desk and Hermione hurried to occupy one, grateful for the moment to think. She had planned on giving Draco his share of the credit for their potion but she wasn't sure exactly how much she should say. She did not want him to get in trouble, nor did she want to betray his trust. She would have to walk a fine line.  
   
"Please, Ms. Granger, enlighten us with the story of your impossible feat." Dumbledore's eyes were doing his normal twinkle now and Hermione, taking that as a positive sign, began to tell the professors about the last few months, trying her best not to look over at McGonagall, whose expression she was sure would be less encouraging.  
   
"Well, first, it wasn't just me. I had a tremendous amount of help developing this potion from… Well, I will tell you that at the end, to help avoid any bias. It took me awhile to get past mine initially, so it would probably be best if you could form an opinion before hand… Anyway - "  
   
Hermione went on to describe how 'someone' issued her a challenge, how she had looked through the restricted section (with McGonagall's permission) and how she had found the coded potion in the book containing hidden dark potions. At this revelation, McGonagall made a sound as though about to interrupt, but Dumbledore held up a hand without moving his eyes from Hermione so she continued.  
   
"So, I had a potion I thought could be modified, but, I didn't have the potions knowledge so I asked -" She paused her, considering the correct word to use " a friend."

Surely he could be considered a friend? Suppressing the warring emotions at the thought of her relationship with Draco and the harsh words earlier, Hermione powered on.  
   
"We spent the better part of a month developing the changes, and eventually we were actually able to brew it. It wasn't completely… effective for our first few tests" Hermione hurried past this, partly to avoid the questions, mostly so she wouldn't have to think about it herself. "But, eventually we were able to get it to work on regular pain, so over the break, we decided to test it fully. And… it works." She felt the ending was kind of anti-climatic after everything, but that was probably for the best, the more she could divert them from their actual tests the better. Unfortunately, Professor Dumbledore was not quite so easily dissuaded.  
   
"And when you say to test it 'fully' you mean your friend cast the Cruciatus Curse on you." It was not a question, but Hermione still felt the need to nod her assent.  
   
"Ms. Granger! Do you have any idea -"  
   
"Minerva, I believe Ms. Granger knew exactly what she was doing. Foolhardy as we may believe her actions to be. The puzzle here is who her friend is. Although Misters Potter and Weasley have many positive attributes I do believe the ability to successfully modify advanced potions is not one of them. Nor the ability to successfully cast the Cruciatus Curse." Dumbledore said this in an even tone, but the disapproval at the last sentence had been clear. This was exactly what Hermione had been afraid of. She had asked Draco to do it. She did not want him to pay for her choice.  
   
"Professor, I… I did understand exactly what I was doing. It was my decision. And, I - I'm afraid I cannot tell you who my friend is unless I have a guarantee that they won't be punished for their actions. I know it is an unforgivable curse, but I asked. Insisted. And if you test their wand you will find not trace of theme casting the curse on me. There is no proof. They are not to blame."  
   
"You mean to tell us that you think that we can hear about someone not only casting an unforgivable curse on you, but also possessing a demonstrated knowledge of the dark arts, and not seek them out or punish them? Not to mention you! I can't even count the number of school rules that you must have broken in developing this potion. I am frankly astounded!" McGonagall seemed to have collected herself enough to yell. Hermione had expected it, but it still stung to be reprimanded by someone she looked up to so much.  "Was it not barely two months ago that I told you I trusted you to keep an eye on your friends? And here find you are the one that I should have been watching the whole time!. The foolishness involved in this endeavor I would hardly expect from a first year-"  
   
"Professor McGonagall, it is clear the danger that Ms. Granger has placed herself in. And that will be addressed. But if her and her friend have accomplished what she believes they have, I am sure some leniency can be found" He raised a hand again at McGonagall's outraged noise "I did say some. Not complete. However, Ms. Granger, as you and your friend have potentially provided a great tool in the war against Voldemort and his followers, I do believe that Professor McGonagall and I may have become temporarily hard of hearing while you were describing your final test. As such we will safely assume it is only theoretical that your potion is 'fully' effective."  
   
Hermione let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. At least there was no threat of Azkaban. But, there were still detentions and house points. "Thank you, headmaster." He gave a small nod of acknowledgment and Hermione prepared herself for what she was about to say. "However, I must ask for more. My… friend only did this at my direction. I wish to bear all of the punishment if there is to be punishment. I did not detail exactly how and when this potion was developed, so I haven't technically admitted to breaking any school rules -"  
   
"Now see here -" Hermione tried not to laugh at how effective Dumbledore's hand seemed to be at stopping Professor McGonagall's mouth. Nerves always made her laugh too much.  
   
"I will admit to breaking them. However, I will not make admissions on behalf of my friend. And I do not believe there will be any evidence to the contrary to be found." Hermione was quite sure she had never seen McGonagall so angry before. Her eyes were wide, and her lips were pursed so tightly it was as though they had disappeared from her face entirely. She felt guilty for betraying her trust.  Guilty for breaking the rules. But, well, she was pretty sure Draco would not be exactly happy about his participation in this being known, the least she could do was make sure he wasn't punished for it.  
   
When Hermione finally chanced a glance up at Dumbledore she was surprised to see a small smile on his lips. "Ms. Granger, I have had many professors inquire as to why you were not sorted into Ravenclaw. I believe you have just demonstrated at least part of the reason quite clearly. Your loyalty to your friend is admirable. I will allow Professor McGonagall to fashion your punishment as she deems appropriate from the given information. But, your friend will be considered immune."  
   
Hermione was quite sure McGonagall's punishment would be beyond what she had previously thought possible. Surely every creative bone in her professor's body would be bent on finding the worst possible punishment. A glance at her professor's face which if anything, looked even angrier at Dumbledore's announcement than before, only confirmed her suspicions.  
   
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."  
   
"Your friend, Ms. Granger?"  
   
"My friend was, um, is Draco. Draco Malfoy."  
   
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Professor McGonagall's head drop lightly into her hands, but the ever stoic Dumbledore simply looked at her at though she were a mildly interesting television program. Thinking that the silence might be worse, Hermione tried her best to explain.  
   
"He really is my friend now. I think. I mean, not at first. He asked me at first as a trick but, when I found a way to do it. Well, he has his own reasons for wanting the potion. And, he really is brilliant with potions. And, he's not like he used to be. Or maybe he never was what I thought he used to be. But he's nice. Sometimes. And he is intelligent. And interesting and…" Hermione barely stopped herself, she had been about to call Draco Malfoy gentle of all things, and in front of her professors. She knew a slight blush was rising on her face, and, although Dumbledore's eyes had an extra twinkle, he made no comment.   
   
"Yes, it would seem Mr. Malfoy has a number of extra curricular activities this year… However, I am pleased that he has gained your friendship. It is often our most unanticipated acquaintances that have the largest affect on us." Dumbledore paused, steepling his fingers in front of himself with his elbows on the desk. "Ms. Granger I wish to both caution and encourage you. A friendship with Mr. Malfoy is not without its risks. It seems clear he has gained a very high level of trust from you. I would caution you to temper that trust with a measure of skepticism. Not of the person, but his situation. Draco is involved in many things outside of his control, no matter his esteem for you - his hand may easily be forced to commit acts he would other wise not wish to commit."  
   
Hermione knew this of course, and she wondered exactly how much Dumbledore knew. It seemed he knew of Draco's task, but did he know that he had taken the mark? Know his mother was practically being held ransom?  
   
"That being said, it is clear a friendship between you and Mr. Malfoy is already having positive results. This potion is something that those in the Order would have been able to create - if they had even considered it possible. Much as Harry has been thrown into situations he is much too young for, I believe Draco to be in a similar position. We all must make our choices. And soon Mr. Malfoy will be forced to make some choices that will determine much of his future. It may be helpful for him to… see outside of the box his father has created for him. To see a future he hasn't yet allowed himself imagine."  
   
"Yes, sir. I believe I understand."   
   
Although Dumbledore's voice had been almost soft as he spoke before, he seemed back to business as he straightened in his chair. "Ms. Granger, I do want to thank you for your efforts. Please leave the copy you have of your potion. I will look it over with Professor Snape tonight."  
   
"Professor, please-"  
   
"I will not be telling our potions master of Draco's help, however, I will be telling him of yours."  
   
With how Draco had been reacting to Snape lately Hermione was sure that he would not appreciate him knowing about their work, and she was glad that Dumbledore seemed to know this as well.  She was rather looking forward to Snape knowing what she had done though. He always looked down on her during potions, like she was simply succeeding on accident. "Thank you, Professor."  
   
Dumbledore made a small gesture to the door and Hermione took her cue to leave. She wasted no time gathering up her bag and walking to the door. Closing it firmly behind her.  
   
\---

"Do you really think this wise Dumbledore?" Minerva hadn't spoken for a while, too busy in her own thoughts, but she had a bad feeling about what had just transpired in front of her. She was all for second chances, but risking the safety of her student to- what? Give support to Draco Malfoy?  
   
"Do you mean their friendship or the lack of punishment Minerva?"  
   
"Well… both frankly. Although I am sure I will come up with something suitable for Ms. Granger…"  
   
Professor Dumbledore chuckled as he looked down at some papers on his desk, "My dear Minerva, you knew as well as I did that Ms. Granger's 'friend' was Mr. Malfoy. There is no other student here with both the intelligence and the knowledge necessary to assist in such a task. Even without Ms. Granger's bargaining, I would hesitate to punish Draco for his actions. Not only would it accomplish nothing, It seems a more prudent course to engender trust from the boy, not anger. I can imagine his reasons for wanting the potion - but I have no doubt he was aware that his actions would be helping the Order as well. He has put himself at great risk to create this potion. I fear no punishment we could give would match what would happen if knowledge of his assistance gets out."  
   
"And as for the friendship?" Professor McGonagall had, of course, known it was Draco who was helping Hermione. She had been much more interested in Hermione's devout loyalty to the boy, especially considering the interaction she had seen earlier. He had been rude to her but, there had been a moment, an expression on Mr. Malfoy's face that she had not seen before. It was gone as soon as he remembered himself, but she had noticed something there. Friendship? Surely Hermione's blush after indicated more than that…  
   
"Friendships blossoms from the strangest of circumstances. But rarely are they ended through paternal advice. I frankly do not know if a friendship between Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger is a good idea - but I have been around young witches and wizards enough to know that attempting to stop it would likely only strengthen it." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling, and McGonagall thought he was probably assuming the same as herself "However, the influence of those we care about can certainly open doors we never knew existed. Let us hope that Ms. Granger is able to show him a few happy ones, maybe all he needs is a little… fresh air."  
   
McGonagall wasn't sure about that, but she was sure she could use some fresh air right about now. Taking her leave she unfortunately had to head back to her office instead. More papers to grade, as usual. But her mind was not on papers as she walked back to her office. Rather, it was occupied by the two top students of the sixth year, and how, after all the interactions she had seen between them, they could have accomplished together what no witch or wizard had attempted before.


	29. Chapter 29

Draco of course, felt badly for having said what he had to Hermione. And to have that be the first thing he had said to her since they had gotten back...

Though he couldn't decide if he felt worse about what he had said, or the fact that he actually felt bad for insulting someone who had clearly been at fault for running directly into him. He should not feel bad for that, Merlin, Hermione was inside his head too much. But even knowing that he couldn't help trying to think of a way to make it up to her.  
   
He had told himself that now that the potion was complete, he needed to focus on the vanishing cabinets and his Slytherins. No more interacting with or thinking about Hermione. But he couldn't help it.

Seeing her eating meals across the great hall, sitting across the classroom - that damn bushy hair made her stand out like a flashing light. And he certainly couldn't help listening to her voice as she answered questions in class - and Merlin, he hadn't realized how many classes they had together. The worst was when he absolutely couldn't help hearing her laugh float towards him from down the hall as she joked with her friends. That hair, that smart mouth, that laugh, He couldn't help but think about it! Certainly, that could not be considered his fault.  
   
But, he had been very good at avoiding any direct interaction with her. Until she literally ran into him at least. He would have reacted differently, wanted to react differently, but blasted McGonagall had been right there. What was he supposed to do? His hands had reached to steady her automatically, but he doubted he could pass pressing her against the wall and kissing her until neither of them could breathe, off as a reflex. Though frankly, it almost had been. The hurt on her face when he had lashed out - almost as reflexively, had stuck with him for the rest of the evening, and even now, laying in bed trying to sleep he couldn't get it out of his head.  
   
Fine. I will do something to make it better, I will… apologize or something. Let her know I didn't mean it. Then maybe I will be able to get that stupid (wonderful, beautiful) face out of my head.

He knew just the thing. Had been thinking about it for a while actually. He had brought the band with him from home, not really allowing himself to fully form the answer as to why. But now he was glad that he had.  
   
His dorm mates were already past asleep - as usual, and none of them stirred when he got up to let Aquila into the room. He quickly tied a short note and the package to her leg with instructions, as usual, to not deliver until Hermione was alone.  
   
Draco felt marginally better as he got back into bed. The guilt transformed briefly into anxiety that he really did not want to look into too deeply before he slowly drifted off into a light sleep.  
   
Morning came much more quickly than Draco felt it had any right to but as usual, there was nothing he could do about it. He lay in bed for a moment trying to remember the dream he had been having - something about curly brown hair and potions - before finally joining his dorm mates and getting dressed.  
   
Breakfast was almost like going back a year. Crabbe and Goyle had eagerly resumed their positions on either side of him while he walked and the three of them sat across from Zambini and Nott listening to them complain about their class. His reinvestment in the Slytherins seemed to be paying off, there were no more evil eyes or lightly veiled threats.  
   
Unfortunately, he could not say the same for the damn cabinets. He was sure the fix was simple, some small piece of the puzzle he was missing. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was. Draco had spent hours every night working on the problem but wasn't getting anywhere. It was incredibly frustrating. At least now his mother had a small form of protection. She had sent him a brief reply to his letter thanking him for the advice, so he knew she had understood the hidden meaning. Or, at least she knew well enough to know he was not actually advocating that she put sugar in her tea. That could have earned him a Howler.  
   
Draco had been half listening to Zambini's latest tirade on Professor Trelawney, the amount of gesturing increasing on level with his annoyance as he recalled her latest prediction when he heard her laugh. Gods above, how in the world could her laugh carry across the entire fucking great hall? But it had, and he watched as she lightly pushed the younger Weasley who was sitting next to her, a light blush rising in her cheeks.  
   
And of course, Hermione would choose this moment to look up at Draco. She smiled, her blush growing deeper when their eyes met. After only a second longer than was probably necessary she looked back to her Friends.  
   
"…the color blue! Can you believe it? Blue is my best color! Not to mention - how can a bloody color bring me bad luck? Draco?"  
   
Too late Draco realized that he had unintentionally mirrored Hermione's smile - though thankfully not the blush. "I think I rather prefer you in black Zambini, it matches your soul."  
   
And Zambini was off on another tangent about clothes. Draco often argued with him on the finer points of style and class, but his mind just wasn't in it today. At least it appeared Hermione had gotten Draco’s note, and forgiven him. 

Not that there had really been anything to forgive he reminded himself forcefully.   
   
\---  
   
Hermione had been teased rather mercilessly by Ginny ever since the younger girl had walked into the common room to see Hermione with Draco's owl again, clearly admiring something in her hand. Unfortunately, Hermione had been alone in the common room this time and Ginny had not held back in her interrogation. Hermione had never been able to withstand the Ginny’s determination, she was better at getting things out of her than anyone she had ever met, and Hermione had reluctantly at first, and then maybe a little bit excitedly, told Ginny Everything. Well, almost everything. Not anything about the potion - but plenty about the boy.   
   
Ginny had taken it surprisingly well, and she was glad for Ginny's confidence. Or had been before Ginny had started teasing her at breakfast the next morning. Hermione trusted her to not actually give anything away but, that clearly did not mean the subject was off limits.  
   
Ron had been lamenting his recent break up with Lavender. Not so much for the loss of Lavender it seemed, but more for the loss of a pair of lips to kiss. Hermione had rolled her eyes at this pronouncement, but Ginny quickly picked up the subject.  
   
"Surely, it's not just the lips you care about Ron?"  
   
"No! Of course not, I mean, they've got to be pretty, and I rather do like the long shiny hair…" having drifted off into a daydream Ron startled at his friend's laughter.  
   
"I believe Ginny meant something along the lines of personality? Or sense of humor? Maybe something a little less... shallow?" Harry grinned at his friend, blushing slightly when he met Ginny's eyes.  
   
"That, is exactly what I meant Harry. Though I did not really expect Ron to pick up on it. What about you Hermione? What is it that you are looking for?"  
   
Startled, Hermione had nearly dropped her fork, shooting Ginny a warning look that Ginny had, of course, ignored.  
   
"I imagine that intelligence is rather important to you, Yes? Hmmm… What else?" Ginny paused here for effect, and Harry began eyeing the two girls closely, sensing that something was being left unsaid. "Oh, I know.” Ginny said with a wicked grin, “I think what our Hermione craves more than anything is some danger."  
   
Ginny waggled her eyebrows at Hermione, and Ron started coughing into his eggs. She pushed Ginny over in retaliation, laughing despite herself, and felt the blush rising in her cheeks. Without thinking her eyes sought out the Slytherin table across the hall. When her eyes met Draco's across the distance she simply couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips, a smile that grew even larger when Draco smiled back. He had been watching her before she had even looked over to him. Hermione's blush deepened and she quickly looked away trying to wrangle the unruly smile on her face. Ginny's laughter made her push the girl again. The glare Hermione attempted to arrange her features into failed spectacularly.  
   
"What about you Ginny? I think I remember hearing you say once how sexy you thought men with scars were…" Hermione was quite pleased with the blush that seemed to have moved from her cheeks to Ginny's, and a little to Harry's as well. They still had not admitted that they liked each other, though the tension between them was reaching near ridiculous levels. Ron just looked confused for a second before turning back to his food.  
   
"Scars have nothing to do with personality, I don't know why I'm the one getting all the flack here for being shallow," Ron said grumpily.  
   
Ginny and Harry were too occupied in their newly started conversation to reply so Hermione laughed lightly. "No Ron, you're right. Looks certainly play a role." Like strong nimble fingers, solid lined chest, sleek blond hair, thick hard - Hermione cleared her throat pointedly making sure not to look at the Slytherin table she looked down to the food in front of her, mirroring Ron.  
   
But that did little to help control her thoughts as it caused her to glance at the simple silver ring she now had on her pinky finger. This is what she had been looking at when Ginny had intruded last night, and Hermione was still slightly confused by it, though pleased nonetheless.

Draco's note, after a brief almost-apology, had said that the ring was connected to the one on his owl's leg and that she could use it to call Aquila to her if she needed to send a letter. Why Hermione would need to use Draco's owl to send a letter she couldn't quite figure out. Her and Draco's late night work sessions were ended, and for any other communications, she was perfectly able to use a school owl. However Draco had mentioned at the end of his note, almost as though it were an after thought, that the ring was also connected to one Draco 'wore on occasion' and could communicate a need to meet to him similarly as it did to the owl.  
   
Hermione thought this was rather more significant than being able to call Draco's owl. But still, there was no need for them to communicate anymore. No need to meet anymore.

Their potion was finished. They had both understood what that meant.

Hermione had put it on anyway, and had immediately felt a connection to Draco, though she was pretty sure that was just in her mind, and not actually the ring. Regardless, it was a nice reminder. In the few hours she had had it on she had already developed the habit of spinning it slowly on her finger, thinking about time spent with Draco.  
   
Soon enough Hermione was sitting in Arithmancy, attempting a difficult calculation that had been set. When she finished she looked around, realizing everyone else seemed to be still occupied on the task. This was not uncommon, of course, but she couldn't help but noticed that Draco also seemed to be staring into space, not at the paper in front of him.  
   
Hermione had wanted to test the ring as soon as she got it of course, but then what would Draco have done? Come to the Gryffindor common room? Of course not, but would he think that is what she was communicating? Or that they should meet in their potions room? Attempting to dismiss the thought of a groggy, mussed Draco searching her out in the middle of the night Hermione's mind had quickly begun sorting through all of the possibilities of communication with the ring. Only a few simple things could really be expected, but before long she had more than enough ideas. She didn't know exactly how the rings worked though, so she didn't know if any of her ideas would work.  
   
Hermione glanced around the room, even the professor was occupied with some papers in hand. Perfect. Hermione quickly pulled out a new sheet of paper, quickly folding it and tearing carefully along the crease she had created. On the small scrap, she wrote;  
   
"A test."  
   
Without looking back she spelled the paper to float to Draco's desk. A few other students may have noticed, but note passing was so common in classes no one followed it to see where it ended up. Thankfully.

Hermione pulled her wand into her lap and whispered the spell Draco had put in his letter  
   
"Concilliatus"  
   
Hermione felt the ring on her finger squeeze slightly and warm. Not hot, but like it had been sitting in the sun. This is what she had been hoping for, that she would be able to feel the spell as well. It would make communicating through the rings easier. She tried again.  
   
"Concilliatus"  
   
This time she put a little more energy behind the word and left her wand on her ring. The same pressure and warmth, but this time it lasted until she removed her wand from the ring. So it looked like she could control the length, but not the intensity. She had one more test.  
   
"Concilliatus"  
   
This time she tapped her wand twice, then three times. And she felt the ring respond in time. Seeming to expand and contract, warm and cool, as she tapped it with her wand. Perfect. With length and repetition they could probably come up with a fairly extensive repartee. Almost like mores code. But, Hermione reminded herself, that was not necessary. She had no reason to have conversations with Draco. She would develop something sufficient for a warning system - that seemed prudent - but nothing more.  
   
Hermione looked down as a paper floated onto her desk and smiled.  
   
"A regular call.  
  A long call.  
  A repeated call; two, then three.  
   
  Successful test. I look forward to the final results."  
   
She had assumed that Draco was feeling what she felt, but it was good to have it confirmed. And, she smiled, possibly even better was that he would know that she would like it confirmed. He seemed to understand the purpose behind the test as well. Hermione shook her head slightly as the Professor stood up, clearing her throat, and asked who needed more time. This was only going to make the space between them more difficult. But… Hermione couldn't seem to make herself care about that.


	30. Chapter 30

Sitting at their usual table in the common room Hermione, Ron, and Harry were all quietly absorbed in their work. This didn't happen nearly often enough, for Harry and Ron at least, and Hermione smiled at her friends. Harry's hair was even more disorderly than usual as he kept running his fingers through it, and Hermione was struck with how young he really was. They all really were. But especially Harry. Sixteen years old and expected to save the world. Hermione was often surprised he could walk for the weight he carried on his shoulders.

She had considered Dumbledore's words from when they had met a few weeks ago. What was it that Draco was being forced to do? The more she thought about it the more Harry and Draco really did seem like two sides of the same coin. Doumbledore may say that you always had a choice, but really - what kind of choice existed for the two boys? Ignore the suffering of those around them? Pretend like all of these things weren't really happening. Turn their back on everything they had been taught? That was hardly a choice.

The paper in front of Hermione was full of crossed out numbers and words. She had found developing a code for her and Draco to communicate much more difficult than anticipated. Not making the code itself, but determining exactly how thorough to make it. She had almost had the whole alphabet it patterns at one point before deciding that it was too much, surely Draco would not want to learn such an involved communication system, and destroyed it.

No, she had finally decided. Simple was best. And besides, the whole point of the rings was to call the person to you. Then they could talk. If they ever had something to talk about. Draco had surprised Hermione in the class immediately following Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, by activating their rings, but when she looked back he had just mouthed 'a test" at her with a small smirk before turning back to his notes.

Hermione had responded in kind, and it had become standard that, when they were around each other, one or the other of them was activating the rings. Every time it happened it made Hermione's heart beat faster and a smile creep onto her face. The warmth from the ring always seeming to find its way to her stomach.

Hermione focused again on the parchment in front of her. She was pretty sure she had it down.

Regular activation - Hello.

Long activation - Meet in the potion room midnight.

Repeat twice - Meet in the potion room immediately.

Repeat thrice - Danger.

Hermione could see so many glaring holes in the possible messages, but she really didn't want to make it too much more complicated. She wasn't sure what use the danger message would be, if they were not near each other and couldn't communicate in any other way, there wasn't exactly anything either of them could do. But, it seemed important. Hermione also hesitated at the 'Hello'. She rather liked to think that their covert activations the last few weeks had been more than just hellos but 'thinking of you' seemed much too forward, and the considered 'just for fun' had caused her mind to wander a little too much. She shook her head, hello would have to do.

Looking around Hermione noticed that her, Ron, and Harry were in the common room with only a small smattering of the younger years. Mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do Hermione squared her shoulders, and pointed her wand at her ring, this time saying 'reditus', the spell to call Aquila. Harry and Ron had both looked up at her spell, confused looks on both of their faces.

"What spell is that Hermione?" Harry sounded half worried that he should know the spell and had missed something in class, and Hermione laughed.

"Nothing important. Don't worry. But… There is something that I need to tell the two of you."

Her tone had gotten their attention - not that it would be very difficult to take their attention away from their assignments. Hermione felt they deserved to know that she had developed the potion, especially as the Order was going to start using it soon. She had gotten word from McGonagall that they had tested the potion themselves, and it was indeed everything Hermione had said. She also thought Draco deserved his share of credit.

Along with this news, Hermione had also found out that, as punishment, her ban from prefect duties would be extended to the end of the year. It had hurt, but, it wasn't any more than she had expected. Hermione felt she was taking it rather well considering her reaction at the beginning of the year after receiving the same punishment.

Harry and Ron were still looking at her expectantly, but they were distracted at the sharp taps coming from a window near the fireplace. Hermione was surprised that Aquila had gotten there so quickly, and she hurried over to let her in out of the rain. Aquila landed comfortably on her shoulder, nuzzling into Hermione's cheek, and Hermione headed back to their table, sitting down.

"Hermione, isn't that Malfoy's owl?"

"Yep, it is."

Neither of the boys in front of her seemed to be able to find anything to say to her quick admission, and taking advantage of their momentary silence to avoid an outburst Hermione pushed on.

"Harry, Ron, meet Aquila. Draco Malfoy's owl"

If it wasn't so important to keep them calm Hermione would have laughed out loud. They couldn't look more shocked than if they were the ones that had just been outside in the icy rain, not the owl. Aquila rubbed against Hermione's cheek again before settling more comfortably, patiently waiting for why she had been called.

"Malfoy's owl is… cuddly?" Ron's world was clearly being turned upside down. Not nearly as much as it was going to be in a second.

"Yes, she is rather sweet." Hermione took a deep breath. "Look, I have been working on something for awhile. I told you about blocking the Cruciatus Curse right? Well, I figured it out. I told Dumbledore when we got back, so the Order has it now. A potion that will block the effects of the Cruciatus Curse."

"That's great Hermione! Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Harry seemed to be regaining his balance a little faster than Ron, whose mouth was still slightly open.

"Well, because… I didn't do it alone. I couldn't have done it alone actually. I had a lot of help." Hermione paused here, unable to figure out exactly how to continue.

"Who in the word is smarter than you Hermione?" Ron seemed to have found his voice, and Hermione smiled at him.

"I will tell you. I will. But, I just… Harry, and you too Ron, I know you don't like him. But I need you to remember he helped me with this potion. At great risk to himself. And he knew it would be going to help the Order. Just… keep that in mind." Ron was still staring at Hermione, but Harry's eyes were moving slowly between Hermione and the owl on her shoulder.

"No… Hermione, you wouldn't…" Hermione didn't say anything, letting her silence be confirmation, preparing herself for what she was sure would be a heated reaction.

"You wouldn't Hermione. No. Come on… You did! It's him! I knew it! How could you? You know whose side he is on! He wouldn't bat an eye if you were killed! And you worked with him? Took his help? How…!" Harry seemed to be at a loss for words, but, as Ron had apparently just caught on there was not too much of a gap.

"Malfoy!? Malfoy?!" Ron stood up suddenly, and a few younger years shot him nervous looks. Hermione quickly shushed him before he announced Draco's role to the rest of the room.

"Look, I know how you feel. It's how I felt at first. I understand. But, Draco, he -"

"Draco? Did you just call him Draco?"

"Yes, Ronald! It is his name!" Hermione did not mean to get angry back - she knew this was difficult for them, she was having to work harder than expected to not become defensive. "I… Ron, he really did help me with the potion. He helped the Order."

"Sure, Hermione, but what did he get from it? He's a Slytherin, and a Malfoy. Merlin, I knew he was up to something, don't you realize you could have been playing right into his hands?"

"Harry, it was my idea, I asked him for his help. I was not playing into anyone's hands. Whether Draco is or is not up to something doesn't matter -"

"Doesn't matter Hermione!?"

"No, I mean, of course, it matters if he is up to something, I just mean that regardless of whatever else you think he is up to. He helped me. He was nice to me. And we were alone together many times over the last few months, and he never once tried to hurt me." Not without my asking at least. Hermione didn't say the last part, if this was Harry and Ron's reaction to him helping her, she was sure they would positively expode at him cursing her. Even if it had been with her permission.

"Look, I am not asking you to like him, I just wanted you to know. Dumbledore will be giving the potion out to the Order soon. I don't think he is telling anyone of Draco's involvement, because it really does put him at quite a lot of risk to have helped, but, just in case. I just, I wanted you to hear it from me first." Hermione looked at her friends hopefully. They had hated Draco for years, she had hated Draco for years. She had been able to get over it because she spent time with him, but she was asking them to go on just her word.

"But why would he help you, Hermione?"

"I… I am not at liberty to say." Hermione held up her hands at Ron's almost-protest before he could get started "I do know his motivations. And that is partly why I trust Draco. But, that is not my information to share. It is personal information, it does not have anything to do with Voldemort or anything like that." She cringed at the half lie, but she would not tell them about Draco's mum. And really, it made no difference in the grand scheme of things. It only changed his motivations. Made him… more human. She doubted Harry and Ron would be able to see it though.

"Hermione…" Harry seemed unable to form the rest of his thought and tried again. "Hermione, Malfoy might be a Death Eater. He is certainly the child of one. He is a Malfoy. He had gone out of his way to hurt us, all of us, every chance he can get. And he hates mudbloods." He seemed to just be saying the words as he thought them, carding his hands through his hair again. "And Hermione… you just said you trust him."

"I do… I… I know it doesn't make any sense. But it is the truth."

"Are you still working with him?"

"...No" Hermione tried to mask the disappointment in her voice.

"Will you tell us if you do again?"

"Sure Harry."

"Ok. Well. I mean. Gods Hermione, Malfoy? Whatever. It's done, right? You have the potion, you don't have to deal with him anymore?"

"Right." Hermione's stomach felt suddenly hollow.

"Hermione, but why do you have his owl?"

Hermione laughed suddenly, she had almost forgotten about the bird on her shoulder, which was saying quite a bit considering Aquila's size.

"She, well, frankly, she is good at being discrete. Obviously, I couldn't have Draco's owl dropping off notes at breakfast." Hermione tried another laugh. Her friends clearly were still upset, but she hoped if she seemed nonchalant they would adopt the attitude, at least in a small way, as well.

"Right…"

Hermione leaned down to the table to fold the key for their ring-communication, quickly slipping it in the bird's pouch along with a short letter she had written earlier. Standing slowly, Aquila now on her forearm Hermione walked back to the window to set her on her way, cringing slightly at the cold gust that hit her face before she was able to shut the window again. She returned to the table to find Ron still staring at her as though he were trying to crack a puzzle.

"But why do you have his owl… now? What did you just send?"

"Ya, you just said you were done with the potion. What was that about?" Harry gestured a little wildly at the window.

Hermione felt the guilt try to creep up again but pushed it down. She had thought about what to say before calling the bird to her. She didn't think too hard about why she didn't want to tell Ron and Harry about the ring, but she knew she didn't. "Dumbledore was doing some final testing on the potion before giving it to the Order, McGonagall just told me that the testing was complete and successful. I was just letting Draco know."

The boys across from her still looked skeptical, though maybe it was about the whole situation, not just her statement. Either way, she was glad she had told them, at least part of what she had been keeping from them. And, she thought, she was rather proud of how well she had been able to deliver the fabricated message for Draco. He must be rubbing off on her.

Hermione leaned back over an essay she had written earlier that day to proof one last time, and Harry and Ron reluctantly returned to their work as well. Though Hermione noticed them looking up at her slightly more often than necessary.

About thirty minutes later, when Hermione was just about done proofing the essay the ring on her pinky finger tightened and warmed briefly. Hermione immediately felt her heart jump.

'Hello"

"I'm thinking about you'

'Just for fun'

All the things it could mean rushed through her head and Hermione's stomach turned briefly to jelly. The flush appeared high on her cheeks, and she made sure to keep her head down. Quickly she pulled out her wand to activate the ring in response. Her involuntary smile felt almost big enough to leave her face, and despite the residual tension from her earlier conversation with her friends, Hermione felt herself relax into her chair, her hand with the ring held lightly across her chest as she felt her heart beating. Maybe simple was best.


	31. Chapter 31

The last few weeks for Draco had alternated between a snail's pace and a sprint. Working on the cabinets was tedious, to put it mildly, but whenever he had a break-through he felt his heart start rushing and his thoughts and movements became almost frantic. He nearly had it now, he was sure. But, he couldn’t yet test it on a human. He had gotten the food to return without rotting but well, as much as he didn't care for most of the Death Eaters, he didn't exactly fancy the fallout that would be sure to happen if he got one of them turned into a wrinkled corpse on accident.  
   
Draco took pleasure in figuring out how to fix the cabinets. The challenge was exciting. Not to mention he now knew more than probably anyone about magical furniture. Whatever that was good for.  
   
He tried not to think about what the cabinets would be used for. Why he was fixing them, what would happen when he did. When he started thinking about that was the only time he consciously allowed his mind to wander to Hermione. Because once that train of thought started, she was the only thing that could derail it.  
   
Lately even thinking about Hermione was becoming frustrating. They hadn't spoken in weeks - of course, they had no reason to. But, Hermione had said she was testing the rings, and Draco had taken that to mean she would develop some sort of communication between them. Draco hadn't thought of it before giving her the ring, had simply wanted some sort of connection with her, but it was a brilliant idea. Then he didn't hear anything from her. For weeks.  
   
Of course, they took turns activating the rings when they were near each other, so Draco knew that Hermione was not ignoring him, but he was rather disappointed with the lack of communication. Even if he had only thought of its possibility after accepting there would be none. He both loved and hated watching Hermione in class, across the great hall. She was laughing with her friends, working on her assignments, and seemed for all the world to not have any cares. Conversely, Draco felt he could barely move for the weight of responsibility he was carrying.  
   
News from his mother had become more sporadic than usual, and he had no way to check on her without tipping his hand. Despite the progress he had made on the cabinet, it still was not ready. The Slytherins had been responding well to his increased presence but, it wasn't long before it was not just his presence that was needed but his attention. They expected him to participate, be present with them. With everything on his mind combined with the lack of sleep, he was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate on anything. Let alone the latest house gossip.  
   
Draco felt like an inferi. An animated corpse. That seemed strikingly accurate. Unfortunately, though, he was an animated corpse with the responsibilities of a fully-grown man, far out of his depth. When he saw Hermione, laughing and carefree, he could almost pretend like he was part of it. Like she could somehow transfer some of her happiness to him. As great as it felt, it never lasted long, and he had been becoming increasingly bitter at her happiness. Illogical, of course, but he couldn't seem to help it.  
   
He had mostly given up on the idea that Hermione was going to find a way to actually communicate through the rings, so Darco's first reaction with Aquila found him late that night was confusion. Excitement shot through him as he recognized Hermione's handwriting and he immediately felt annoyed at himself. The witch hadn't tried to talk to him in weeks. She deserved his irritation, not excitement. Of course, he ignored the voice in the back of his head reminding him that he hadn't actually tried to talk to her either.  
   
First, he pulled out the sheet with a key on it. It was shorter than he had expected. Much shorter considering it was coming from Hermione. But, he thought, it would be easy enough to remember at least.

Draco shook his head at the first one. 'Hello'. Is that what they had been saying to each other in class? Hello? He rather imagined it more along the lines of 'I can't stop thinking about you' or 'I want to touch you again'. But, maybe for them hello meant all of those things too. He chuckled lightly at the idea of Hermione writing down one of those things as part of her key and figured hello worked well enough. He quickly sent a 'hello' to her ring, smiling as he did so, before pulling out the next piece of paper. The second paper was a letter, with considerably more writing than the first.  
   
   
'The ring is brilliant. Thank you. It could prove to be very useful. I've developed a simple code for its use - if you are interested in using it. I will attach it with this letter. I hope all went well over the holidays, Dobby visiting was a nice surprise, I do hope I was able to calm his nerves enough.  
   
I have been meaning to tell you something, and I am not being a true Gryffindor by putting it in a letter, but I hope you won't be too angry. When I told Professor's McGonagall and Dumbledore about our work I told them about your help. I know you probably didn't want them to know - but you deserved the credit! It is a huge accomplishment! I did not say anything other than how much time and effort you had put into creating and testing. And they were suitably impressed. Dumbledore had some kind words for you even.  
   
I also plan on telling my friends - not everything, but parts of the last few months. I know this may be worse for you than Dumbledore, but I really do not feel like this is something I can keep from them. Despite what you think of them, I know you will agree with the assessment that they are Gryffindor through and through. Loyalty being a key part of that. They will not endanger someone I care about.  
   
It is great to our goal, but I do regret my now conspicuously empty evenings. And for some reason, I never noticed before, but the great hall seems to be entirely too large. Funny how things you never noticed before can become so important to you. Be safe.  
   
-Hermione  
   
Draco carefully folded the letter, trying to ignore his now shaking hands. He recognized the last paragraph would soothe some of his anger, and so he pushed it to the back of his mind, allowing himself to feel just the anger. He would focus on the last part later.  
   
Hermione was putting his life, the life of his mother in the hands of those two… children. Draco checked the time, it was a quarter to midnight. Looking back at the key, he activated the ring in two short bursts - meet me immediately. It was almost midnight, so the other message would have worked as well but, this he felt got across his anger a little more. Gave it a sense of urgency.  
   
Quickly grabbing his trainers from under his bed Draco made his way to their potions room. It was a quick trip for him, only two hallways away, and Draco was quite accustomed to sticking to the shadows. He had never gotten caught while on this walk. Possibly the increased security didn't apply to the dungeons. Not because the professors thought they were better behaved surely, but maybe they simply that they were less worth protecting.  
   
The thought only made the anger continue to curl in his stomach. After weeks of being in a near-dead state, the anger was almost welcome. It was powerful, and gave him a renewed energy, despite his sleeplessness.  
   
He slipped quietly into the room, shutting it behind him, and preemptively casting a silencing spell. He expected to be yelling quite a bit.

He was still shaking and breathing faster than the walk here required. The anxiety he felt for his mother's safety remaining on the edge of everything. Surely he would know if anything was wrong? No, he didn't expect Thing 1 and Thing 2 of the golden trio to run screaming his mother's predicament to the world. But in the future, in a conflict, that is when it would be used against him. Draco thought about the brief empty notes he had been receiving from his mother lately and his heart constricted painfully.  
   
When Hermione finally walked into the potions room she was at least ten minutes later than Draco had expected, though she seemed appropriately out of breath.  
   
"Sorry, I was with Harry and Ron, I-" She put her hands on her thighs breathing heavily "I ran the whole way."  
   
Draco just stood, glaring in her direction. As she walked into the door he had to fight with his face to not respond to her presence pleasantly. Thankfully she had been distracted enough from her run not to notice. Draco had not needed to utilize his highly practiced glares recently and he put his best effort behind it. Clearly, the lack of practice had not diminished the effect. When Hermione met his eyes, having partially caught her breath, she actually took an involuntary step backward.  
   
"Draco…"  
   
"You." Draco shook his head slowly, a small smirk forming "Even you cannot possibly feign ignorance here. You know exactly what you have done. And I want to hear why. Why you thought it was ok to put my life at risk because you simply - how did you put it? - ' really don't like keeping things from your friends'?"  
   
Hermione's eyes got wide, as he anticipated, and she started forward towards Draco but seemed to be looking for the right words. Draco took advantage of her momentary silence - he knew it wouldn't last long.  
   
"No, actually, I get it. I do. The world is the Trio's playground. Nothing bad happens on a playground right? Oh, sure, there's risk, but for any true danger the adults are there, waiting to step in. The wizarding world is content to stand by and wait while its savior matures. Does his school assignments, laughs with his friends. Exposed little by little to the things that matter - but never without close supervision. Professors and the Order holding a glass dome over your head, keeping out anything that might truly upset or hurt you."  
   
Draco had begun pacing, as he usually did, and he was shaking again. Hermione, for her part was simply watching as he continued "Well my glass dome was shattered a long time ago, Granger. Raining lethal shards down on my head - with no 'adults' to step in and protect me. And I am walking through the endless splinters. Every step I take considered and calculated. Because any misstep, any stumble, even the slightest miscalculation can bring pain or death. And I have now left the field of analogy, I am not being facetious. Every action I take is watched, and punishment is doled out easily, without thought. Not just on me, but also on those I care about.  
   
"So I see you across the great hall - laughing and joking. And you have never been more right - the distance between that world, and the world I am part of... It is incomprehensible. So I get it. I do. I can see why not wanting to keep something from your friends could lead you to absolutely betray any trust you were given. In your world, it is, how would you put it - 'the right thing to do?' Unfortunately, in my world, it is something that could kill me."  
   
With a conscious effort, Draco stopped pacing to face Hermione. He hadn't planned exactly what he would be saying to her, but it seemed he had had this anger growing in him for a while. The words flowed as though he had been planning them carefully for weeks.  
   
"Draco I didn't tell them about your mother, all I told them was that we were working together. What part of that exactly puts you in danger?" Hermione was clearly trying to remain calm, but her eyes were daggers shooting at Draco as she stood in front of him, hands in fists by her sides, and Draco was momentarily grateful for the desk between them. "Is it the fact that you're actually a human being, that you are capable of caring or being nice? What danger have I created for you that did not already exist?"  
   
"Don't play stupid, Granger" Draco's had felt marginally more calm after saying his piece, but felt his anger sky rocket again at her assumptions, and avoidance of what he had said. Though he figured, it did only confirm his previous accusations. He forced himself to laugh at her shocked face. She really didn't understand.  
   
"I helped the fucking Order! How do you think that would play out for me? I created a potion that directly undermines the Dark Lord's punishments of his own followers, and did so knowing it would also be going to help his enemies, effectively crippling one of his most powerful attacks. I am not afraid of people finding out I am 'nice' Granger. I am afraid of my mother being tortured and killed if my actions are known. I am afraid of being tortured and killed myself. And that is not hyperbole. I will be tortured and killed if the Dark Lord were to find out what I have done."  
   
Hermione's face had drained of color as she watched Draco. He had not begun pacing again but was staring right at her as he spoke, making sure she heard what he was saying. "I do not have the protection or support of the adults surrounding me. I am answerable for my own actions. You may be dipping your toes into the game, just getting wet, but you have countless wands pointed at you, waiting to cast a buoyancy charm should you flounder in the shallows. I am in the center of the ocean, treading, and the only wands pointed at me are waiting to weigh me down should I presume to act out of place." Possibly Draco was getting a little caught up, but he couldn't seem to stop now. He had thought these things so many times - ways to get Hermione to understand.  
   
"You have this picture in your mind of what you think I could be. But you don’t understand. I am in a cage, starving, and you dangle chocolate frogs in front of me as though I am an idiot for not simply reaching forward and taking them. This cage does not allow for deviation. Deviation means death. A death much worse than temporary starvation."  
   
Draco was shaking again, or maybe he hadn't stopped, but he froze at what he saw in Hermione's eyes.

Pity.

She was pitying him.

He felt something in him snap. He could not maintain anything with this witch. Even standing here, as angry as he was it was taking all the effort he had to not rush forward and embrace her, feel the warm heat of her body, trace the smooth skin beneath his fingertips. It was too much. He had to get rid of her. And, if he didn't have the strength, well. He would make it easy for her, even if he couldn't make it easy for himself. It would be better for her this way too.

Cowards way out maybe - but he was a Slytherin, not a bloody Gryffindor. He would just have to remind her of that.  
   
He collected himself mentally, preparing himself for what he was about to say. Straightening his shoulders he cooled his eyes, feigning emotionless calm. And casually, he leaned against the wall behind him, the picture of unbothered.  
   
"Secondly, Granger, I am not nice." He placed a careful smirk on his face as the confusion flickered across hers. "What, you think we are friends? Something more maybe? You really are naïve, aren't you? I needed you, Granger. Would you have helped me if I hadn't appeased you in some way? Of course not. I played you Granger, and you fell into it head first. Heart-on-your sleeve Gryffindor, trying to bring the lost little lamb back into the fold? Ha! And they say Potter has a savior complex. Since you seem unable to understand what is right in front of you, let me spell it out for you. You are nothing to me, Granger. Nothing but a tool, which has now outlived its usefulness. Why don't you just try to retire gracefully, save yourself a little bit of pride."  
   
"But, you... Draco, we…"  
   
"What Granger? We fucked? A reward for a job well done." Draco forced his eyes up and down Hermione's body lewdly.  
   
After landing the blow Draco waited, his posture hadn't changed, but he could feel the tension throughout his body, was practically shaking with it. Hermione needed to get out of this room, and she needed to get out now. He would not be able to maintain his facade for long. The exhaustion from before was hitting him like a brick and he was barely maintaining control. If Hermione stayed, if she yelled back, if she even looked at him for much longer, Draco was sure he would lose it. She needed to leave.  
   
 "Though surely better for you than it was for me. Took ages to get the taste of mud out of my mouth after."  
   
And she finally left.  
   
Draco felt his body slowly slide down the wall he was leaning against until he landed on the floor. All control and restraint gone he pulled his knees towards himself, took a deep breath, laying his head on his knees, clasping his hands around his legs. And he gave in.  
   
He could not remember the last time he had allowed himself to cry but the sobs racked through his entire body, choked him. Hermione, his mother, his unfinished task, everything seemed to be trying to force its way out of him and Draco had no way of stopping it. 

He did not know how long he stayed in the abandoned potions room. After some amount of time the sobs slowed, the tears dried. Though, he was sure this was simply because his body no longer had the strength to produce them. His heart was still in the thousand pieces he had torn it into while talking to Hermione. He remembered hearing people say that crying made you feel better. All it had made Draco feel was slightly damp on top of everything else and he decided that people only said that as a way to excuse their own crying.  
   
Draco had not thought, the day before, that things could get much worse. But as was happening more and more often lately, he had been wrong.

He had a sudden image of a newt they had used in potions; pinned down and splayed open. Students in-artfully picking out what they needed, and then it was left, open and exposed, insides slowly drying up in the cold dungeon air.  
   
He shook his head - finish the cabinets, please the Dark Lord, gain his mother's freedom, run. Then he would let himself shrivel up into what he truly was.


	32. Chapter 32

It had been another long, and pointless evening spent in the Room of Lost Things. Draco had thought, for just a minute there, that it had it figured out. But, of course, he did not. Unfortunately, the idea that he might have had something kept him in the room past curfew. And, unlike the abandoned potions room, he was nowhere near his dorm. Draco quickly dawned his dark cloak and pulled up the hood to cover his hair. He would have to risk it, he had only been caught coming back from this room once - and that had been when the wonderful Golden Trio had stumbled in to mess everything up. Like usual.

He had no idea what Potter was up to, Draco had noticed him following him lately. Each time only briefly, briefly enough to make him question if he was imagining it or not. But, after about the tenth time seeing a head of messy black hair ducking around a corner, coincidence begins to seem highly unlikely.

At least Granger wasn't following him around with him. Draco counted any day he did not see her a success. Those days were not often, of course, considering their similar course loads, and having to eat in the great hall together.

When he was forced to see the witch his heart seemed determined to learn gymnastics. And not in the pleasant hopping, happy way it had used to be. Almost like half of him was attempting spin happily off, while to other half burned with anger, and the other half attempted to shrivel at the memory of what he had said to her. Three halves because in addition to all of this the sight of that bushy hair made his heart feel as though it were being stretched to one and a half times the size any healthy heart should possibly be.

Really he just tried his best not to think about it. Which is why days when he didn't have to see her were the best. He could let his chest empty.

That was another reason why Potter following him was getting so annoying. When he saw Potter he was inevitably reminded of Granger.

Taking a slow breath Draco inched the door open, making sure no one was there. A habit he had developed ever since he had been ambushed by Potter and Co. He really should learn the disilutionment charm. Of course, it wasn't a Hogwarts spell, but if Hermione could do it, he was sure he could. Shaking the witch out of his mind yet again he skirted into the shadowy hallway.

It was a fairly peaceful walk. Draco had only had to duck around a corner once to avoid Flitch. The Order must not be out in full alert today. But of course, Draco was not that lucky.

'Freeze!"

Draco couldn't tell where the whispered command had come from. He had almost reached the main entryway, so close to the dungeons, and the suits of armor and the torches on the wall were casting too many shadows to pick out any individual shapes. Although Draco had frozen immediately as commanded by instinct, he regretted it as soon as he recognized the owner of the voice.

"Potter."

Draco tried to appear unaffected, but the fact that he still couldn't see where the bloody Gryffindor was made it more difficult than usual. Draco took a few steps backwards, trying to take in everything in the hallway with his eyes, but he still couldn't see anyone.

"Pertrificus Totalus" Harry's voice was barely a whisper still, but the spell was effective all the same.

Fuck.

This was just great. And just what he had been waiting for since he found out that Granger had told them.

He dearly wanted to say something to Potter, something cutting and cruel no doubt, but all he could do was lay on his back, staring at the armored suits above him, feeling the growing ache in his ass, shoulders, and head from the hard fall.

Suddenly his vision was filled with Potters face. Draco's first reaction was to close his eyes. That was the only defense he had against the close, sudden proximity of the unwelcome face. But only for a moment. Putting as much anger and annoyance as he could into his eyes, the only part of him that he could move, he opened them, waiting.

"Malfoy."

Draco knew he could handle much more pain than Potter's 'nobility' would ever let him inflict. But that didn't mean he was exactly looking forward to whatever it was he had planned.

Whatever it was Draco really wished he would just get on with it, but Potter just kept staring. If he could move his mouth to speak this would be about the time that Draco would make a comment about maybe Potter wanting a picture of him to wank to. But, unfortunately - or maybe, fortunately, giving his current state of immobility, it was not possible.

Finally, Potter disappeared from view and Draco felt himself roughly pulled over to the side of the hallway, his back somewhat against the wall, though he was leaning at a rather precarious angle. And, of course, Potter's face was back in front of his again.

"I have some questions I want answered, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes, which was apparently enough to get his point across - how was he supposed to answer questions with Potter's spell still on him - because he felt ropes wrap around his torso, arms, and legs, and seconds later felt the body bind spell lift.

Potter disappeared again, but only for a second, returning quickly, and lifting two wands in front of Draco's eyes. Two wands? Bloody hell. Of course, he had dropped his. Not that he had any control over it really, but the sight of Potter crouching in front of him with his own wand pointed at his face made Draco's skin crawl.

"What are you doing for Voldemort?"

In his usual, blunt and obtuse style, Potter had no preamble at all. Draco rolled his eyes again, keeping his mouth shut. Harry pressed the two wands firmly into Draco's chest.

"Potter, what in your tiny little universe makes you think that I would answer you?"

"You mean, besides the two wands I have pointed at you?"

"Yes, besides the two wands, that you barely know how to use, that you have pointed at me."

Harry's eye's narrowed at Draco's words, and he jabbed the wands harder into Draco, but still didn't use any more magic.

"Just because I don't use dark magic, Malfoy, doesn't mean I don't know how to use the wands."

"Well, unfortunately for you, as I have actually experienced dark magic your... threat rather pales in comparison." The condescension was clear in Draco's voice as he spoke, and he was rewarded with a small blush rising in Potter's cheeks but, there was a look of something else in his eyes - maybe, understanding? Draco dismissed the thought. It was unfortunate enough that Potter was standing close enough to him for him to see the expression in the chosen one's eyes, he would not devote any of his substantial brain power to actually trying to interpret it.

Harry backed up slightly, pulling an old folded up piece of paper out of a pocket. Draco couldn't see it clearly but Harry seemed to find what he was looking for.

"You're right. I'm not going to use any dark magic on you. I won't even hurt you. Well, much, at least. Which is more than you would do. But Snape is one floor down and two corridors away, McGonagall is about the same, but above us. What do you think would happen if they walked in on you standing over an unconscious Harry Potter?"

Draco stared at him. He wasn't quite sure how he knew where the professors were, or if he was just bluffing. But he was pretty sure he knew where Potter was going with this. It seemed much too Slytherin for him to have actually thought of, "You are not unconscious Potter..."

But, as Draco had half expected Potter only smiled, turning Draco's wand on himself. And, as stupid as it was, he had no doubt that Potter would actually do it.

Draco really didn't care if McGonagall came across them, but if it were Snape... He had been following Draco around almost as much as Potter lately, and he would just love to have this to hold over him. Threaten to tell the Dark Lord. Possibly actually telling the Dark Lord that Draco was acting out of turn, drawing attention to himself.

"What do you want Potter?" He tried to act as relaxed as he could, being reminded that there were professors so near had put him back on edge. His voice seemed to echo at every syllable, though Draco knew that his whisper would hardly be heard more than a few feet away.

"I told you. I want to know what you're doing for Voldemort."

"Potter, I know not much gets into that thick skull of yours, but you really think that the threat of a professor is enough to get me to betray the Dark Lord? Merlin, Crabbe and Goyle could give you a run for your money. No wonder you're never allowed out of wand's reach of an adult."

It was so easy to get a rise out of Potter, it used to be one of Draco's favorite pastimes, and he had rather missed it. Watching the flush grow on his face took Draco back to a simpler time. Draco smirked at the thought.

"Speaking of, not only do you not have any adults with you right now, you don't even have your sidekick. Was he getting a bit too needy, even for you?"

Maybe, Draco thought, if he could get Potter worked up enough, he would give them away by yelling and then McGonagall would walk in on a tied up Draco instead of an unconscious Potter. He thought about yelling himself but, he didn't want to tip his hand.

"What Potter, Weasel got your tongue?"

Potter clenched his jaw but seemed determined not to rise to the taunts.

"Hermione said -" Potter had started speaking, but stopped suddenly, a look of slight confusion on his face. Too late Draco realized it was probably from his reaction. At the reminder of her betrayal - Potter saying her name to him, he hadn't even tried to hide the rage and hurt that flashed through his eyes. Draco cursed himself, not for the first time that night, for not keeping his face under control.

"Hermione said you had your reasons. Your reasons for helping her." He paused here, as though waiting for Draco to confirm this. But Draco only stared back, his face back behind its carefully blank mask.

"It's your mum, isn't it?"

Draco jerked his head up at the whispered question. Due to the awkward angle Potter had put him in, this meant he slammed his head against the cold brick wall. The second time in only a few minutes his head had been hit, and he practically saw stars. The pain burst forward to his eyes and he shut them tight, biting his lip to keep from yelling out.

Behind his pain, he heard Potter whisper a quick "bollocks" before he felt himself lifted into a more upright position. If it had been anyone but Potter, Draco would have assumed they were trying to be nice. But it was Potter, so his only concern as Potter pulled back from straightening him was being hit with a curse.

As angry as he was at Hermione, Draco had really believed her when she had said that she hadn't told Potter or Weasley about his mother. It felt like the blood in his veins had turned to ice, and he didn't know if it was the worry for his mother or some other, less describable feeling directed at Hermione.

Potter it seemed, was at least a little more intuitive than Draco had previously given him credit for "Hermione didn't tell me. I figured it out myself. I just... wanted to know if it was true."

"You figured it out?"

"Yes." Potter sounded slightly defensive at the disbelief in Draco's voice. "And no, I'm not going to tell you how."

Draco only rolled his eyes, attempting to portray calm once again though his heart was still pounding. Probably the same way that Hermione had 'just known'. The trio must have been doing a better job at following him around than he had previously thought. Draco just continued to stare at Potter, waiting to see what he would say next. Draco didn't have to wait long, Potter seemed quite susceptible to the well-timed awkward silence.

"Look Malfoy." He seemed to be working himself up to do something, he squared his shoulders, looking determinedly over Draco's left shoulder. "I don't like you. No, I think you're a bloody fucking git really. And you always have been. And, for some reason Hermione is upset. And I think it is your fault." He ground his teeth, as though angry at the mere thought that Hermione would care enough to be upset by him. "But if it's 'cause she told us you helped with the potion just... don't worry about it... I get the family thing. Okay?"

Potter looked ridiculously embarrassed about his statement, and Draco frankly could understand why. He knew he would never have said something so close to nice to Potter of his own free will. And what did he mean he 'got the family thing'? Potter didn't even have a family. With Potter's almost-niceness and his pronouncement that he too knew about Draco's mother's predicament, aided along, he was sure, by the recent blows to his head, Draco was momentarily stunned speechless. Potter seemed to take this as another queue to keep talking unfortunately.

"But just because I won't rat out about your mum doesn't mean I will just let you get away with whatever it is you are doing."

"Get away with?" The egotistical statement had brought Draco back to his senses a little bit. And, seeing Potter's eyes dart to his left forearm, the rest of his senses came quickly rushing back. Potter reached forward roughly, pulling just Draco's forearm free of the ropes binding him.

Draco frantically tried anything he could think of. Not enough mobility to land a hit, his wand was still securely in Potter's pocket, and unfortunately, Draco did not know any wandless magic. Thoughts going a mile a minute Draco was seconds away from yelling - let Snape of McGonagall find them, he would not let Potter see his Dark Mark.

But, almost as he had been called, both Draco and Potter froze at the sound of Snape's voice.

"Peeves, surely you have learned better than to... entertain yourself... in the corridors I am patrolling."

There was no answering cackle and Draco realized it had probably been his and Potter's whispered conversation that had drawn the professor to them. Potter's eyes were so large the green of them seemed to almost glow like lanterns in the light from the torches. Potter looked back across the hall and Draco saw a cloak piled there, obviously discarded when Potter had attacked him.

Potter turned and ran for it. What good was a cloak going to do if Snape walked down their hallway? But, when he got to the other side of the hallway and picked up the cloak he looked back at Draco and seemed to freeze again, eyeing the ropes around Draco's body.

Draco was sure if he had not already had such a ridiculous night he would have yelped as Potter sprinted back over to him, crouching so low and so close he was practically sitting in Draco's lap. Potter's eyes, now not more than an inch from Draco's were wide and he held a finger to his lips. Like Draco needed to be told to be quiet. Draco rolled his eyes. Like being quiet would even make a difference they were sitting in the open in the bloody hallway.

And what was Potter doing on top of him? Merlin. He wiggled as best he could, still in the ropes, to try to create some distance between them, but Potter put a hand on his shoulder gripping tight.

Slowly, looking first down the hallway to make sure it was still empty, Potter took the top of the cloak and pulled it just past Draco's eye, giving a significant look down, and then pulled it quickly back up. And just in time too as Snape chose that moment to turn the corner.

"Peeves. If you are here, you will regret it."

Bloody fucking Harry Potter. Of course, he had an invisibility cloak. Really, Draco hadn’t given it much thought since the train ride. But really? What idiot would give Potter an invisibility cloak. And only Potter would get as many detentions as he did - with an invisibility cloak! Now that took a special kind of idiocy, Draco was sure. At least it explained Potter's sudden desire to be so close to Draco.

Still not daring to speak Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter, who seemed to understand Draco's confusion. Not that it would really be hard to understand Draco's confusion at having the chosen one in his lap. Harry hooked a finger under one of the ropes still encircling Draco's torso.

Of course. He didn't want Draco to be found all tied up, much too suspicious. And of course, instead of thinking about banishing the ropes and hiding himself, Potter's first thought was to jump practically on top of him.

Draco felt that rather enough time had passed since Snape had left the corridor and cleared his throat lightly in mock politeness. The other boy started, and almost fell backwards at the sudden sound, but luckily caught himself before falling too far. Which would surely bring Snape back in their direction.

Luckily for Draco, it also brought Potter's pocket within reach of his recently-freed forearm.

Potter looked at him, saw the wand in Draco's hand and hesitated for a second, as though trying to make up his mind.

Mind made up Potter pulled back and sucker punched Draco, right in his gut.

Draco tried to make his coughs as quiet as possible as he tried to get the wind back into his lungs. Before he could even think to cast a curse Potter whispered roughly,

"That is for my nose, on the train. And for making Hermione cry."

With that Potter turned and strode down the hallway disappearing out of sight under his cloak. Draco hadn't even raised his wand.

After waiting for just a few seconds for the pain in his stomach to subside Draco got up to hurry back to his dorms. Truly Potter hadn't caused too much damage, they had been too close for him to get any sort of real force behind the punch, just enough to knock the wind out of him.

Draco had been almost relieved at the punch, like it had suddenly righted a quickly spinning world. Potter talking to him, actually talking to him, and not yelling or cursing him had been... bizarre to say the least. But, no more so than the last few months he guessed.

Apparently Potter 'got the family thing' whatever that meant. He was articulate as ever. Despite himself, Draco did feel a little reassured by Potter's statement. Just a little. Honorable Potter and all of that.

Not honorable enough not to sucker punch someone tied and bound, but possibly honorable enough to not sell out someone's family. Again, because of Hermione, all he could do was... put his trust in Potter and the Weasel. He shuddered at the thought. What a position to be in.

Except for a couple of bruises, his encounter with Potter hadn't changed anything - thankfully Snape's impeccable timing had prevented Potter from pulling his sleeve up and seeing the Dark Mark, confirming what he obviously already suspected. At least Hermione seemed not to have told them about that. 

He just had to complete the ridiculous cabinets. Nothing would change until that happened. Until that he was stuck in some sick limbo - his situation, his brain, and the reality around him all pulling him in different directions, his body suspended in the middle, stretched taunt.

As Draco tried to make himself comfortable enough in his bed to catch a few hours of sleep he couldn't stop his brain from drifting to thoughts of Hermione. Of course, this wasn't too unusual. But tonight he couldn't get the image of the stubborn, infuriating witch crying to leave the forefront of his mind.

When Draco finally fell asleep, the imagined image of Hermione crying morphed to the memory of him holding, comforting her while she cried on the floor of the abandoned potions room. Her warm body cocooned in his, the smell of her surrounding him.


	33. Chapter 33

"Earth to Hermione. Hello Hermione, are you in there?" Ron chuckled at his own joke as he waved a hand in front of Hermione's face and she smiled back. If the smile was slightly forced, she was pretty sure Ron wouldn't be able to tell.

It had been weeks since Hermione had last spoken to Draco, and she was just starting to be able to make her smiles convincing. Her friends had noticed something was wrong, but she had just asked for space and they had given it. They were good friends.  
   
"Yes Ronald, I am on earth, I was just wishing that it was an earth in which you knew how to shut up about Hannah."  
   
"But I asked you a question Hermione, and it was important!"  
   
Hermione sighed, giving in, knowing even before doing so that she would regret it "Alright Ron, how can I help you navigate this new relationship of yours?"  
   
Ron looked a little disgruntled at the implication that he could not navigate it on his own, but possibly he remembered that he was actually trying to ask her for help to do just that. "Well, it's just, with Lav right, it was simple. We just kissed, and made out, and well… You know." Ron blushed slightly but plowed on "She was always pretty clear about what she wanted to do. Hannah… isn't. Gods, sometimes she will just look at me like she wants me to do something. But I don't know what it is Hermione! Does she want me to kiss her? Or do I just have some food or something on my face?"  
   
Hermione laughed "Possibly both?"  
   
Ron narrowed his eyes at her "This is serious Hermione! I actually like this girl. Like, personality and stuff. That's what you guys kept saying I needed, right? So help!" He really did seem to be becoming kind of frantic.

"Ron, look, Lavender is a Gryffindor right? All brash and brave. Acting before thinking. That sort of thing. Hannah is a Hufflepuff. They are not nearly as reckless. She is probably not going to be nearly as... forward as Lavender was."  
   
Ron's face seemed to be clearing somewhat "That makes sense I guess. But… then how am I supposed to know?"  
   
"Ron. If you are actually picking up on her wanting to kiss you. Believe me. She wants you to kiss her. I practically had to seat myself in your lap before you even suspected I liked you."  
   
"You actually did sit in my lap didn't you?"  
   
"Yes, a few times. At first, all you did was ask me if I wanted your chair I believe."  
   
Ron managed a laugh at his own expense, clearing his throat "Yes, well, I was trying to be polite."  
   
Hermione's only response was to laugh. Ron was hopeless sometimes, but he was a good person. Sometimes she thought about how much easier things would have been if it worked out for them but, almost as soon as they became a 'couple' it was clear that they were nothing more than friends. But if she had been with Ron, then there would have been no Draco.  
   
And Draco was a bastard. Maybe a bastard that had a point. But still a bastard.  
   
And all that she could think about.

Even after so much time, and after he had been so cruel.

Hermione usually trusted her instincts, followed her gut. And she didn't honestly think she had been wrong about Draco. There was too much evidence to the contrary. He had cared about her. She knew this. But he had been intentionally cruel to her. She remembered in one of their first conversations, he had said he was only cruel when it was necessary. But regardless of his reasons, it did not stop Hermione from being hurt and angry.  
   
And she was hurt and angry.

Still, she couldn't seem to help searching out the pale face whenever they were in class, or the great hall. But on the few times their eyes had met his had been carefully blank, dull. She would feel a stab of pity, but always quickly reminded herself of his words and it went away quickly enough.  
   
Hermione tried to decide if she felt bad for telling others of his part in the development of the potion, tried to decide if she had been wrong. Draco may think it put him in increased danger, but she knew it did not. Harry, Ron, Dumbledore. She knew they could be trusted, even if Draco didn't believe her.

But, she did feel bad that she had not been able to explain this to him. She had grown so close to Draco that it was possible she had forgotten just how much there was between him and her friends. She knew that these people could be trusted. She would, and had, trusted them with her life. But... Draco didn't. And whether or not she had actually increased the danger to him and his mum in telling her friends, she had increased his anxiety, his insecurity in his place. And for that, she did feel bad.

Draco certainly seemed to be under even more pressure than usual lately, more pale, more drawn, and Hermione felt guilty at the fact that her disclosures were adding to that.  
   
Ron had turned back to his breakfast, and with Harry deciding to sleep in since it was Saturday, Hermione's mind was free to wander. Which it had been doing before, while Ron had been trying to talk to her. But now Ron was eating, and unlikely to interrupt again. The mail had just arrived, and despite Hermione's best efforts, her eyes found Draco across the hall. While he was reading a letter she could watch him without the fear that he would notice. And indeed, he seemed to be completely absorbed in the paper in front of him.  
   
Hermione watched at first with curiosity, then concern as the sheet dropped from his hands. Draco seemed frozen, but his face quickly went from his usual pale to a white so white it was almost blue, as though the color from his veins was peaking through. Like he had become transparent. He was sitting alone, and no one else seemed to notice except Hermione as he grabbed the paper off the table in front of him with hands shaking so badly that Hermione could see from the other side of the room, and almost ran out the doors.  
   
She didn't even think, setting down her fork she quickly made her way out of the hall after Draco. When she exited the door Draco was nowhere to be seen, but in the early Saturday morning quiet she could hear quick footsteps echoing down the hall to the Dungeons. Not giving herself time to think about what she was doing, she sprinted off after the sound.  Eventually, as she rounded a corner to a particularly long hallway she saw him ahead of her.  
   
"Draco!"  
   
He whipped around to face her, and as she pulled closer she was hit like a punch to the gut at how bad he looked. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes, red from lack of sleep, were full of emotion. To add to that he was certainly thinner than usual, his typically fitted clothes seemed to hang on his frame as though they were trying to sink to the ground, pulling their wearer with them.  
   
"What's wrong? Draco? Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" She reached forward instinctively, he looked like he could barely hold himself straight and, to Hermione's surprise he leaned lightly into the hand she had placed on his shoulder.  
   
"Draco?"  
   
"My…" he cleared his throat and attempted to stand straighter. "My mother has run out of our potion. I need to make her more. Though I am not sure how I will get it to her. Perhaps the house elves. But, I don't have the ingredients, and some of them were quite difficult to get in the first place. Getting more will increase suspicion. I will need new contacts..." Draco was rambling, he wasn't looking at Hermione, but off to her side and Hermione wasn't quite sure if he really recognized that she was here, even with her hand on his arm.  
   
"Draco, how could she be out? We made enough for close to thirty doses. It is only March -" She stopped as Draco's hollow eyes found hers.  
   
"Tortured at least thirty times in less than three months…' Hermione's voice was barely a whisper.  
   
"Likely more. It was not my mother that wrote to me, it was the elf... My mother, she would not have wanted me to know, she would have hid it as long as possible…" Hermione's hand moved to Draco's face, lightly pressing against his jaw, her thumb lightly brushing his pale cheek, feeling the rough stubble there that he had never allowed to grow before. For Draco's part, he did not move. Either to welcome her touch or pull away. He just stared at her, eyes uncharacteristically wide and clear.  
   
"Hermione!" Ron's voice echoed loudly in the empty hall, and the squeak in it would have been humorous. In any other situation.  
   
Hermione felt Draco stiffen under her hand and she quickly pulled it back. His eyes were once again emotionless and dark, his shoulders straight. He turned, striding down the hall in the direction of the Slytherin dorms without a second glance.  
   
"Hermione, what…?" Hermione just shook her head as she turned to join him, grabbing his forearm and directing him to follow her as she headed back to the common room. "You left so quickly, I thought something was wrong, and then I saw… Hermione, did I just see that?" Ron voice, though no longer squeaking, was rather fast.

Hermione's heart had dropped to a pit in her stomach at the sound of Ron's voice. She knew what she would have to do, though she absolutely did not want to. Ron would not let this drop, and as soon as Harry woke up, neither would he. Would this be betraying Draco's trust even more? Her stomach squirmed uncomfortably, but she kept walking, leading Ron towards Gryffindor tower.

She needed to help Draco, and she would not be able to do that with Ron and Harry breathing down her back. Feeling like she was walking to the guillotine - whether from her own guilt or from what she was sure would be Ron and Harry's reactions Hermione began taking the stairs two at a time.

Hermione's mind was racing with what she had just learned. Already out of the potion? What was it -the middle of March? Thirty-one days in January, twenty-eight in February... They hadn't discussed it specifically, she was not the only one of them who had thought that the supply they had made would last until the end of the semester, at the very least. They needed to do something... Anything.  
   
Ron had seemed to figure out she wasn't going to talk until they got to Harry, and had picked up the pace, now striding ahead of Hermione.


	34. Chapter 34

As soon as they made it through the door of the boy's sixth-year dorm Ron was waking Harry up. Harry really had needed the extra sleep lately, and she didn't begrudge him missing breakfast one bit.  
   
"Harry! Harry, you prat! Wake up!"   
   
"Wha- What?" Harry looked between the two of them, Ron's face the shade of red that indicated impending explosion and Hermione looking down at her feet. "What happened? Ron, what are you going on about?"  
   
"What am I going on about? What am I going on about? Only I just walked in on Hermione and Malfoy and it certainly seems that she more than 'trusts' him!" The shade of Ron's face was increasing violently as he spoke like his anger was preventing him from breathing properly "She was touching him! She was… well… touching him!"  
   
Hermione had to fight a little to not laugh at the description, despite her current state of mind or maybe because of it. It was accurate if somewhat misleading. Harry looked at her, the confusion clear on his face, then back to Ron.  
   
"Touching him?"  
   
"Not… no, like…" Ron strode forward to Harry, who was now sitting up on his bed, feet hanging off the end "Like this."  
   
Ron put his hand on Harry's cheek in an imitation of what Hermione had been doing earlier, eyes wide and determined. Harry's eyebrows shot up at the intimate contact from his friend but quickly were drawn back down in confusion. Harry turned to look at her, Ron's hand still on his face. "Hermione?"  
   
She quirked an eyebrow, looking between them and Ron quickly dropped his hand, but his glare made it clear now was not the time to joke.  
   
"He… he had, I mean. Yes. Yes, I was 'touching' Draco." Hermione finished rather lamely, but she was still distracted and, wasn't particularly looking forward to the conversation, so she would allow them to take the lead. Unfortunately, Ron seemed all too happy to comply.  
   
"Why were you touching him, Hermione?"  
   
"He… just received some… bad news." Hermione not-answered the question. But Harry picked up the questioning, being more specific.  
   
"Hermione, what is going on between you and Malfoy?"  
   
"Going on? Nothing." Hermione looked at her friends, reconsidering letting them do the questioning. She could drag this out, or do it quick. Like a Band-Aid.  
   
"Look, Draco and I. Well, we are, were, more than just friends. I'm not entirely sure what it was, but we became… close while working together."  
   
"What exactly is more than just friends?"

"And it doesn't seem like 'were' if I walked in on you!"  
   
Hermione took a deep breath, screwing her eyes shut just for a moment. It was hard to think with worry for Draco and his mum mixed in with Harry and Ron's accusatory stares.

"I am not sure what exactly we were Harry. It was… complicated. We… liked each other? Merlin, it sounds so juvenile. We spent time together, we kissed, we laughed, we were… together. And I say were because it is in the past. We knew from the beginning. Who we each were. What we are both involved in. It couldn't be anything permanent. Now that potion is done, we are done. Today is the first time I have actually talked to him in weeks."  
   
Harry began to ask her another question but Ron seemed to have something stuck in his throat and when his coughs subsided, his voice hoarse "What do you mean 'together' Hermione?" She couldn't stop the blush the rose in her cheeks, but she kept her voice steady as she replied.  
   
"I mean 'together' Ron. We were together." Her friends were both staring at her waiting for the other shoe to drop, though she knew they were not that obtuse. "You know what I mean. We slept together."  
   
"You slept together?" Ron's voice was back to squeaking, and he collapsed heavily on his bed across from Harry. Both of her friends knew about Victor, and of course, they knew about Ron but, this was different. Hermione sat down on Dean's bed and waited patiently. Letting them process. Ron was sputtering but seemed unable to form words. Harry seemed frozen with a look of confusion, staring just to the left of her. One day she might think this was funny. One day.  
   
"Look, I know you don't... approve. I made a decision. A decision I do not regret. But, I do hope you will be able to move past this. I am not asking you to like it, pretend like you don't know for all I care just…" Hermione wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to ask. She knew they would be mad, would probably feel betrayed. But she wouldn't lie to them to make them feel better about it, she wouldn't pretend to regret it, pretend it was a mistake. Because it hadn't been. Even with everything Draco had said, everything they had both done. She couldn't make herself regret it.  
   
"Just let it be?" Maybe that was all she could hope for, for now.  
   
"Let it be? Hermione! You slept with the most evil git at our school! Someone who has been nothing but an ass ever since he met you! Someone who is probably a death eater! What has gotten into you?"  
   
"Are you sure he didn't, like, slip you something? You said you spent time alone with him before, well, before. He had the opportunity, right? We should go see Madam Pomfrey, maybe there is still something in your system."  
   
Ron was nodding his head as Harry spoke. Grateful for the easy explanation. Both of them seemed ready to haul her to the hospital wing whether she wanted to not and she quickly held up both of her hands.  
   
"Stop. Both of you. Just stop for a second." She had no idea how to make them believe Draco's emotions were sincere, especially as she had questioned them herself so much lately, but she could at least be honest about hers.  
   
"He did not 'slip me something'. I fell for him all on my own. I know he has always been an ass, believe me, I know. But… when it was just us. When we were working together it was so… seamless. Like we were just on the same page. Draco is, unbelievably intelligent - and that's probably how it started because I could talk to him like I can't talk to other people. Things you guys think are boring, things from class, theories, ideas. We talked and we pushed each other and I thought it was weird that we could get along so well after so much, but we did. And well, the potion, it stops pain right? Well, we had to test it somehow…" Hermione was not about to go into details here with her friends already struggling to keep their simmering anger down. "It was… not pleasant, the potion didn't exactly work at first. But Draco was… he was kind and sweet. He was gentle. He is kind and sweet and gentle, when he can let himself be. I brought him to my parent's house over Christmas break - "  
   
"What?!"

"Ron, shhh!"

"But we've never even been to her parent's house!"  
   
"...You've never asked."

"Draco asked to meet your parents?" Harry couldn't have sounded more disbelieving if she were telling him she had sprouted wings and learned to fly.  
   
"No, not to meet my parents. I was showing him how muggles lived, their technology, their progress. He wanted to learn. Draco is not what we always thought he was." Hermione thought briefly of the dark burning skull marring the pale, smooth forearm "Or, not entirely at least. I know it is complicated. I know it doesn't make sense. But it is the truth. And my feelings were, are, genuine. Not the result of a potion. I have not been alone with him since the beginning of Christmas break. A potion or spell would have worn off. My feelings have not."  Hermione's throat tightened up a little at the last few words. It was true of course. The bastard that he was, she still cared about him. Even if it hurt to admit.  
   
Her two best friends were sitting in front of her, looking for all the world as if she had just told them she had murdered their childhood pets. Eventually, Ron stood up and walked over to stand in front of her. He paused for a second, and Hermione noticed the tension radiating off of him, causing his hands to shake. But he only shook his head and left the room.  Hermione could feel the tears pricking her eyes as she looked over to Harry. He only shook his head as well.  
   
"Hermione… This is a lot. Give him, and me, well… Give it some time."  And with that, he followed Ron out of the room.  
   
Hermione allowed the tears to flow for a few minutes. Having her friends leave like that was just the cherry on top of the pain her heart had been feeling lately. She thought, hoped, that Harry was right. That with time things would return to normal, but she wasn't particularly looking forward to the time between now and then.  
   
Eventually she wiped her face, squared her shoulders and walked down the stairs to the common room. It was rather full but a quick glance showed her that her friends were not there. Give them time. She turned to leave, heading to the library. She had something to take care of and she would not be interrupted there.

Something that would likely sever her last tie to Draco. Make him hate her - even more.

But she would not sit and do nothing. Draco couldn't trust - and she knew why - but she did. And if Draco could only let himself... Maybe, just maybe...

\---  
   
It was almost an hour later when Hermione looked down at her completed letter. It had been difficult to write for a number of reasons but, she felt it was about as good as she could make it. Looking down she read it once more, just to be sure, before sending it off. Satisfied she walked up to the owlery to get an owl to send her letter. She paused just outside of the door. Draco's owl was fairly recognizable, and using Aquila may add more credence to her words.  
   
Making her mind up Hermione walked to the open wall on the far side of the owlery and called Aquila to her with the ring. Many times she had considered taking it off, but she had not been able to bring herself to do it. The owl came up to her from behind, apparently already asleep for the day in the racks of the owlery.  
   
"Aquila, I don't know how far you will have to fly to deliver this, but I need you to be as fast as possible ok? It doesn't matter if other people are around. Just get them the letter."  
   
The owl let out a sharp hoot in acknowledgment and, as soon as the letter was secure, she soared out the open wall, flapping her wings to rise into the thermals. 


	35. Chapter 35

Draco had sat down at his desk as soon as he reached the dormitory. He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and paused. First, he had to make more of the potion for his mother. That was clear. Any other plans would be considered after that.

How could she be out already? He thought back to the letter he had received that morning, he had never had an elf write to him - it could be a trick. But either way it meant trouble for his mother.   
   
Though Draco couldn't imagine how it could be worse than it obviously already was. Even if he got her more potion how could he let her know? Rely more on freed house elves? Merlin. But, now was not the time. First, he needed the potion.  
   
Some of the ingredients… Well, he had played it off the first time. Experimenting he had said. But, if he asked Snape for the same ingredients again the old bat would know it was something specific he was making, and he would demand to know what. He was sure his father had potion contacts outside of Snape, but Draco did not know who they were. If Draco had been treading water in the ocean before, he was drowning now.  
   
He thought back to Hermione's brief touch in the hallway. A small sliver of light shining through the water. Pretty, hopeful. But frustratingly impossible to reach. Unable to help.

He had to figure out how to get those ingredients.  
   
He would have to break into Snape's stores… Would he have everything he needed? Likely not. But some surely. Draco had felt the Dark Mark burn late last night, calling the Death Eaters to the Dark Lord. Draco was exempt, due to the necessity of keeping under the radar, along with sheer impracticality of it. But Snape was not. Would he still be gone?  
   
Just as Draco's excitement began to build he froze. No, Snape had come back. Draco had seen him at breakfast. Reckless. That had almost been fatal. Time was of the essence, but he still needed to plan. Draco's mind felt so scattered, his thoughts shooting off in a million directions at once. He tried to force himself to sit at his desk and attempted to recall everything he could about his professor's schedule, habits, everything.  
   
Only a few hours had passed, but Draco had as close to a foolproof plan as he could invent. Thankfully, Snape was a man of routine. And Draco knew, every Sunday, the professor walked out to Hogsmeade to replenish potions ingredients that had been used during the week.  
   
He would be out of the castle for at least an hour. It was the perfect time to act. Draco chaffed at the delay but, he repeated to himself for the hundredth time that it was better to wait and be successful, than act the Gryffindor and get caught.  
   
Draco was sure a day had never passed more slowly than this one, or, was it yesterday yet? Certainly, midnight had come and gone, but he couldn't bring himself to check the time. Possibly it felt so long because there was no sleeping through the last longest hours of it. Eventually, Draco heard his dorm mates begin to stir and got up, joining them the best he could in their just-woke-up stretches and grumbles before heading to breakfast.  
   
He had a hard time not running. Which was silly, because moving his body faster would not make time go faster, but the tension in Draco's body was screaming for action. Any sort of action. Draco made himself calm into a stroll as he walked into the great hall slowly picking his food, eating one small bite at a time. Snape was at the head table, as always.

He wouldn't leave for another three hours. And Draco had to wait.   
   
As part of his forced nonchalance, Draco made his gaze wander around the hall. Watching the few early-to-rise students laugh and joke, sitting with friends, eating their food. Nothing wrong, no mothers being tortured. No fathers in prison. He did a double take as his eyes landed on Hermione at the Gryffindor table, not because it was Hermione, though that was usually enough to make his eyes linger, but because Aquila had just landed in front of her.  
   
A smile appeared on Hermione's face as she read the letter and she pulled out a quill, adding some words on the back of the parchment she had just read. She glanced at him and Draco didn't even try to avert his gaze or cover his confusion.

She looked at him nervously before reaching into her bag, handing Aquila a small box and the same letter she had just marked. The great hall was considerably more empty than normal due to the weekend and the early hour but Draco still felt as though all eyes followed Aquila as she made the short flight from Hermione to land directly in front of himself. Quickly looking around Draco realized that probably no one had seen, no one who seemed particularly interested at least. Well, he amended as he looked down his own table, Pansy had noticed. Damn. He gave her a nod, holding up a finger indicating that she should wait, but he would discuss the issue later. She seemed appeased, but the curiosity still burned on her face as she looked over to the Gryffindor table.  
   
Draco took the parchment from his owl and looked down, at first he thought Aquila must have made a mistake, as the letter wasn't even addressed to him, but as he read he began to understand.  
   
'Professor Dumbledore,  
   
I am writing this letter to you in the hopes that you may be able to provide some help. And, from your comments in our previous meeting, I believe you may know more than you let on. I hope that this is the case, and I hope you will be able to provide some sort of safety. I will be blunt, as time is an issue.  
   
Narcissa Malfoy is in danger. I am aware that she is one of Voldemort’s followers and you have no reason to help her. But she needs a safe place. I do not even know if she would want help from you. But I do know that she needs to be removed from her current situation. And soon.  
   
Draco is also in great danger, though I suspect you already knew as much.  
   
I know you have every reason to not assist the Malfoys. It is my hope that you will do so anyway. I don't know that they will accept the help that is offered.  But, Draco cares deeply for his mother and his mother's wellbeing.  
   
They are people; even if they are on the other side of our war. And our backs should never turn from the suffering of others, no matter who they are.   
   
If it is possible please include your response on this letter, including when you would be able to meet with Draco if you so choose. I will send the communiqué in its entirety to Draco, and the rest will be in his hands.  
   
Thank you,  
-Hermione J. Granger.  
   
My Dear Ms. Granger,  
     Your sentiments are admirable and honest. And I hope, not in vain. If Draco Malfoy would like to meet with me to discuss the safety of himself and his mother I will be at Hogwarts until the evening tomorrow. He would be welcome to stop by anytime. The password is ‘Treacle Tart’.  
   
-Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore'  
   
Draco was fairly sure his mind had stopped sometime in the last few minutes, but he turned the parchment over to see Hermione's neat scrawl across the back  
   
'Draco, all you have to do is reach out and take it.'  
   
What was that supposed to mean? Draco turned the parchment back over, looking for something more, then checked Aquila to see if he had missed a second page maybe? But, looking up at the owl he saw the small box in her beak and had to fight a small smile despite himself as realized what it was. A chocolate frog.  
   
'Like, I am starving and you are dangling a box of chocolate frogs in front of me, and I am an idiot for not just taking them.'

That's what he had told her.

Could it really be that simple? The great and mighty Dumbledore to the rescue? He tried to be upset at her for divulging even more about his mother to Dumbledore, but his emotions were so drained he couldn't seem to make himself. His nerves were fried from the sleepless anxious night, worry about his mother. Not to mention the last months - all full of too much worry and not enough sleep.

But Dumbledore... He was supposed to kill Dumbledore. Kill him to save his mother. Save himself. How could he put his life in the hands of someone he was plotting to kill? Or maybe, if he got close enough to Dumbledore himself he wouldn't need to figure out the damn cabinets... But could he do that?

He had been raised to do whatever was necessary.  
   
Draco looked up to see Hermione watching him carefully. Waiting for his reaction. He was past feeling anger about what she had told Dumbledore. Past feeling much of anything. He was a ghost of what he had once been.  
   
He tried to make himself imagine a future in which he took Dumbledore's offer, him and his mother living safely. But he couldn't. He simply couldn't process the idea. They were the Dark Lord's servants. Nothing else. But… Once he had wanted to be something else. Surely something had existed before this. Draco slowly gathered his things, leaving most of his breakfast uneaten.

There were a few hours still before Snape left.  
   
Draco had told himself he had just wanted to wander, just to walk and try to clear his mind, but he was not exactly surprised when he found himself in front of the Gargoyle saying Dumbledore's ridiculous password and knocking on the headmaster's door. Nor was there much surprise as he found himself walking forward, sitting in the violently orange stuffed armchair, the old man conjured for him - that was really more suited for sitting before a fire reading than a meeting at a desk - determining the rest of his life.  
   
He looked at the old man in front of him, and was, again, unsurprised to see him patiently waiting. As though Draco was simply there to tell him a story. As though he would like nothing more than to listen to Draco talk. He was sure that wasn't far from the truth and, reminding himself of the information he held Draco made sure his occlumency wards were firm and intact.  
   
"Mr. Malfoy, I assume you are here because you were given the letter that our Ms. Granger wrote to me." He raised his voice at the end like it was a question. But it was not a question. Draco's apathy began to turn again to anger, the patronizing fool, treating him like he was just another student.  
   
Dumbledore rose a white bushy eyebrow and Draco cursed his lack of focus, he had made the anger clear on his face as soon as he had begun to feel it. An expressive face was both a blessing and a curse as his father had said, requiring precise control and regulation.  
   
"I would apologize, but I am not sure what the correct thing to apologize for is Mr. Malfoy, though it is clear you are upset about something. So I will simply, barrel forward, as it were." This was not the Dumbledore that spoke at the start of term feast, no trace of the slightly odd was left and his voice was penetrating and direct. "I and the Order are able to provide you and your mother protection, as well as your father, should he want it. Should any of you want it. It would not be easy. And it is likely you will be placing yourselves in even more danger by acting out directly against Voldemort. However, we will offer what we have."  
   
Draco may be tired, possibly more tired than he had ever been, but he was still a Slytherin, and he was still able to recognize when things were too good to be true. He narrowed his eyes at the professor, this time intending to show his emotion "Let me get this straight. The heroes of the wizarding world will deign to rescue the devoted followers of their greatest enemy. Asking nothing in return. Out of the goodness of their own golden hearts?"  
   
Dumbledore seemed slightly put off at Draco's tone, but not upset as Draco had intended. That was rather frustrating. He almost seemed on the verge of smiling, his eyes were certainly twinkling an annoying amount. "That is an accurate summary. Though, I might have to question your choice of the word 'devoted followers'. Surely you would not be here if you were truly that devoted to the madman leading your cause."  
   
Again Draco heard the question despite Dumbledore's even tone. "I still hold my beliefs. They may be more nuanced than those of the Dark Lord, but I doubt they are in line with yours." he scrutinized the old wizard across from him, eyes narrowed. "I will not disavow my beliefs for your assistance. And I will not divulge information to assist you in defeating the Dark Lord."  
   
"If I may ask Draco, why?"  
   
"Why?" The simple question had thrown him off guard. He had expected demands or dismissal. Why indeed? If he wanted this man's help, truly wanted it, possibly he should not be quite so abrasive.

When had he decided he wanted this help? It seemed almost inevitable. Why else would he be sitting here?

Draco answered honestly, if only partially. "You know of my situation. My place in our world?" Dumbledore nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Draco. Dumbledore, Draco knew, was a pureblood, and so likely knew of the structure and traditions houses like the Malfoy's still followed.  
   
"I have responsibilities. The Slytherins, they are mine to direct, and mine to protect. They are not at my… level. They don't understand. But many of their parents do. Regardless of their parent's actions or beliefs, they are like family to me. They raised me as much as my own parents. I will not actively hurt them. I will not actively work against them." This was true and seemed the type of statement that would tug on the man's heartstrings.  
   
"But you would leave 'your Slytherins' as you put it, to be placed in a similar position as you when the time for it comes?" Dumbledore sounded purely curious, and that put Draco on edge more than if he had been condescending or judgmental. Dumbledore was projecting the exact image he wanted Draco to see. Which meant whatever he was  _actually_  feeling and thinking, the professor was not showing.  
   
"I would have 'my Slytherins' make their own choices. As I am attempting to do. I would accept your protection for myself and my family. But I will not coerce or attempt to influence others to follow me. As you said, we are putting ourselves in greater danger by acting directly against the Dark Lord. It is only for our immediate health and safety that I come to you. Nothing else. Our beliefs, opinions, attitudes, they remain the same. Those are the terms."  
   
If Dumbledore thought it was odd for Draco to be the one setting terms he did not indicate so. He simply looked at Draco, the damned twinkle still in his eye, like Draco was doing something he approved of. And Draco hated it. But had no idea what would make it go away if what he had just said hadn't done the trick.  
   
"Your terms are acceptable Mr. Malfoy. Although, if we are to go through with this the Order will have a few of their own."  
   
Draco nodded, he had expected as much, and he was glad to finally be getting down to the reality of the situation rather than the pointless inquiries Dumbledore had been giving him before.  
   
"I am aware of the importance of you and your family to Voldemort. There is only one place immediately available that would provide sufficient protection. Unfortunately, allowing you there would weaken its protection." Dumbledore lowered his hands to his desk, looking directly at Draco, the twinkle was gone now and Draco rather wished it was back. Surely it would be better than the intensity that had taken its place. "Once there, you and your mother would not be able to leave, and all communication would be watched. Until such time as Voldemort is no longer a threat to our world."  
   
Draco was shocked, he wished he hadn't been, but he was. He had overestimated Dumbledore's softness, or underestimated his practicality. He wasn't sure exactly what he had expected, but it hadn't been this. It would be jumping from one prison to another. Oh sure, he understood. He completely understood - it was very Slytherin - he couldn't expect the Order to trust some Death Eaters. But that didn't make it any easier to swallow.  
   
Draco laughed lightly, "You make yourselves out to be so much better than us. So much more noble. But this is the protection you offer? A cage? A prison? Tell me, exactly what makes your 'protection' any better than our current situation?"  
   
"For one, you would not have to concern yourself with the Cruciatus Curse quite so much as you currently do I imagine."  
   
That gave Draco pause. Of course. Imprisonment still. But not torture. Was it worth it? Worth the risk of attempting it?  
   
"How exactly do you plan on getting my mother to safety - were we to accept the offer? She is… well protected."  
   
"The Order has many resources. I will not pretend to have a plan formed already but, were you to accept, I would simply make a few calls and a plan of action would be determined."  
   
"Can you guarantee her safety?"  
   
"No."

Dumbledore's eyes softened slightly, Draco probably wouldn't have even noticed had the eye contact not been so direct "Can you?"  
   
Draco almost flinched at the words.

Damn him.

Damn them all. 

He wasn't sure who he meant - just damn anyone that had helped to put him in this situation.

What would his father think? Turning to Dumbledore and the Order, turning his back on the Dark Lord.

What would his mother think? He still had no idea if she would even want to be rescued. But she was a proud woman, and she knew her worth. Certainly, she recognized how demeaning, how dangerous of a position she was in right now.

But would the Order's 'protection' be any better? Locked Merlin knows where? Draco thought briefly of whether or not he would be able to finish his school but quickly brushed the thought aside. Unimportant. No, it was his mother that was important. He would deal with the fallout. Draco would make whatever decisions necessary to get her out of harm.  
   
"I must approve the plan before it is set in action. I must also be present at the meeting where it is developed."  
   
"I think we can arrange that."  
   
"Alright. You may proceed"  
   
At these words, Draco felt like the weight on his shoulders was slowly tumbling off, not all of it, but some. Was this what it felt like to be able to rely on someone else? It was pleasant but, dangerous. The weight wasn't disappearing, he was giving it to someone else. Someone who couldn't possibly care as much as he did. And although he was treading the ocean waters again instead of sinking, and there were less wands pointing at him now, waiting for a misstep - the water was much more turbulent, much less predictable.

He wasn't sure if this was any better.


	36. Chapter 36

Hermione was pacing. And she couldn’t seem to make herself stop. She had not been able to tell a thing from Draco's reaction at breakfast, and he had left so quickly… Harry and Ron were gone somewhere, probably with Hagrid, or taking the time to practice flying. They hadn't told her where, they hadn't actually spoken to her since the day before.  Not that she had expected them to. But usually when she was this worked up about something, she would talk to them about it.

 

They may get impatient with her occasionally but they still listened, helped to calm her nerves, sometimes even just distract her. But there was nothing to distract her now, so she was pacing. She considered activating her ring, just to see if Draco would respond, but quickly decided against it. If he wanted to talk to her, ever again really, he would talk to her.

 

It was with a start that Hermione saw a parchment fluttering down before her feet, a strange trill sounding in her ear. She was in the abandoned potions room - having annoyed everyone in the common room so much with her pacing that she had been 'politely' asked to leave. She had thought, she wouldn't be bothering anyone here. Abandoned and all that. So it was particularly weird to see a lone paper fluttering in front of her, in an empty class room, in the middle of the day.

 

"Ms. Granger,

     Please meet me in my office at 8:00 PM tonight.

Prof. Albus W.P.B. Dumbledore"

 

That at least explained the odd delivery; it had to have been Faux. She hopped this was good news. Though she supposed Dumbledore could only want to break the bad news to her in person.

 

Hermione was in front of the Gargoyle at five to eight and, as she made her way up the spiral staircase was surprised to hear a number of voices coming from behind the headmaster’s door. At her knock the doors opened wide and she saw a group of Order members relaxing and talking in the office. Kingsley was speaking to Lupin by the fire while Tonks seemed content to examine the contents of Dumbledore's shelves.

 

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hurried over to give her a hug as she walked in and she immediately melted into the embrace. There was just something about Mrs. Weasley's hugs that reminded her of home, of her own mother's hugs. It felt reassuring and safe.

 

As Hermione pulled back from the embrace she noticed Snape leaning against a pillar talking to Dumbledore, eyeing her lightly as her eyes met his before turning back to the conversation. As odd as it was to see so much of the Order here at Hogwarts, it was undeniably stranger to see Draco Malfoy, sitting in a chair tucked into the corner, surrounded by this particular group of people. Arms folded and legs crossed, he looked for all the word as though he were simply observing the group in front of him. As though they weren't all on opposite sides of a war. His chin was tilted up slightly and his expression was one of haughty disinterest. Hermione knew there was no way it was natural, though she couldn't blame him for taking what comfort he could in his countenance.

 

Really she was so glad to see him there, the distant expression on his face hardly matter. This had to mean he had accepted their help. He would be safe, his mother would be safe.

 

Hermione politely excused herself from the Weasley's company and slowly made her way over to where Draco was sitting. Before she got halfway there another chair appeared next to his, and, though Dumbledore still seemed as occupied by his conversation with Snape as he had a moment ago, the twinkle in his eye and slight smile on his face gave it away. Not to mention, she doubted anyone else in the room would have conjured a chair with quite so many colors on it. Except maybe Tonks.

 

Draco looked in her direction as she sat down next to him. He didn't say anything but his eyes momentarily cleared as he gave her a small nod. And Hermione found she was content to just sit next to him, watching the Order interact.

 

A few minutes later Hermione was surprised from her observations when Ron and Harry entered the room. She was here, so she shouldn't be too surprised. But, why were they there? All three of them.

After making their greetings Harry and Ron noticed Hermione sitting in the corner. They started making their way over to her, probably out of instinct more than anything else, but they both stopped in their tracks when they realized who she was sitting next to. Ron's face started to burn and he turned to walk the other way, but just at that second Dumbledore conjured two more chairs, right next to Hermione, this time looking at her friends and making it clear to them that they should sit.

 

A quick glance showed that the rest of the adults had stopped speaking to watch as Dumbledore stood straighter before them, waiting patiently for the boys to take their seats. They did so quickly under the eyes of the Order, and Dumbledore began speaking.

 

"Today I ask a favor of all of you here. By joining the Order you devoted your lives to our cause - to uniting the wizarding world, free of hatred and prejudice. But I do not ask you this as members of the Order. And, you are free to refuse, free of judgment or question." Dumbledore's eyes scanned the occupants of the room, not looking at Hermione and her friends, but keeping his focus on the full members of the Order.

 

"What I am going to ask you is dangerous and outside the scope of your role as members of The Order of the Phoenix. I ask you now to protect, not one of our own, but one of the servants of Lord Voldemort. I ask you to assist me in protecting them without getting anything from them in return. Not information, not even loyalty."

 

The Order members were confused, looking among themselves, but they allowed Dumbledore to speak. Every few seconds they were darting looks at Draco as well. But Hermione could see his mask was firmly in place, and he was gazing determinedly into the fireplace, avoiding any accidental eye contact. The reflection of the fire on his eyes made them dance, smoke and fire.

 

Hermione mentally shook herself. Now was certainly not a time to be looking into Draco's eyes.

 

"Draco Malfoy has been placed into a situation I would not wish upon anything. It matters not what he believes or does not believe. He has been asked to perform the impossible, and as he fails, his mother is held and punished. As is he, when he is not at Hogwarts. If we truly are meant to be a beacon of light in the dark times… We must not turn our backs on those in need.

  

"I want to repeat, any who agree to assist in this will be placing themselves in danger. Please do not accept unless that is a risk you are prepared to take."

 

Hermione started slightly when Tonks stepped forward almost immediately, raising her hand as though volunteering for a class assignment "Count me in! Any blow to old Voldy is a blow to Voldy, right?”

 

Draco's mouth opened slightly at the pronouncement, though whether it was because of the eager volunteer or Voldemort's apparent nickname Hermione wasn't sure.

 

Mrs. Weasley stepped forward next, her husband right behind her "We will help." She looked nervously at Draco before continuing, "Lucius almost killed our daughter. But we cannot hold his son accountable for his actions. Any life we can help make better, we will."

 

Mr. Weasley nodded along, addressing Draco "We will do what we can to help you and your mother remain safe."

 

Kingsley stepped forward next, though he addressed Dumbledore directly and not Draco, "I can foresee many issues with this action. And many more stemming from it in the future. I am sure you see those as well and, so long as they are addressed, you have my full support."

 

Dumbledore nodded his acknowledgement and turned to Snape. Snape's eyes hadn't left Draco this whole time, though Draco still seemed determined to avoid them.

 

"Dumbledore I am afraid I must question the… advisability of this course of action." His eyes remained on Draco as he began to step slowly towards him. "I have spend considerable time with both Mr. Malfoy here and Narcissa. Never has there been any indication of… dissatisfaction." He was standing in front of Draco now, but Draco was still looking away. Snape bent down in front of him and jerked Draco's face to meet his gaze. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Snape stilled her with a quick glance.

 

"The boy is, as you know, a capable occlumens. How have you… assured yourself of his sincerity?"

 

"Severus, as you are aware I am a rather accomplished legilimens myself. Though I have made no attempt to break through Mr. Malfoy's barriers. If you wish to reassure yourself of his motives, I suggest you ask him yourself."

 

"All you have said of me could be said of yourself… _professor_." Draco spoke before Snape had a chance to ask him any questions. "I have also spend a considerable amount of time in your presence, heard much of the information you have shared with the Dark Lord. Imagine my surprise in finding you here. Playing the double agent."

 

"I do not need to explain myself to you Draco, I -"

 

"Nor I to you."

 

They stayed that way, staring at each other for more than a few minutes, the rest of the room holding its breath, waiting and watching. Eventually, just when Hermione had become convinced someone had cast a freezing charm on them as a joke Professor Snape nodded slightly. Hermione wouldn't say he smiled, but his mouth seemed less tight than usual, and he placed a hand briefly on Draco's shoulder before standing up and walking away.

 

"Well," Dumbledore clapped his hands once, as though no time had passed "if that is all settled, we have plans to make."

 

The adults all began to gather at Dumbledore's desk, eager to move forward, and Hermione glanced over at Harry and Ron, still sitting in the chairs next to her. Ron only shrugged, and Harry shook his head.

 

Hermione cleared her throat, "Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore? Excuse me, Sir?" She blushed slightly as all heads turned at once to look at her. Her 'sir' had been more of a yell than anything else, but they hadn't heard her at first "Um, I'm sorry, it's just… Why are we here?"

 

Harry and Ron nodded their heads and Dumbledore smiled. "I guess it would be prudent to address that first. As I mentioned to Draco earlier, the Order only has only location currently set up with the necessary protections. Another could be created of course, but it would take time, and I am afraid there is not much time here to be had. And once Narcissa is rescued, and placed under our protections, she will then become privy to those protections. That is, it would not be safe for her to leave again. Not until after the war."

 

This all made sense to Hermione, but that still didn't explain why they were here unless… She only knew of one place that had the necessary protections. The Black's House. Sirius's house. Harry's house…

 

"Harry I will not, of course, be asking you to accompany us on this mission. It would be much too dangerous. However, I will be asking something from you. Rather a lot I am afraid."

 

Harry looked confused, he hadn't put the pieces together, but soon enough he would. And Hermione honestly had no idea what he would do.

 

"I am asking you if you will allow the Malfoys to reside in your house."

 

"My house? But the Durs- oh… My house - You want to keep the Malfoy's in Sirius's house!?"

 

"Yes Harry."

 

"How could you… When it was Bellatrix that – his aunt! … Have them live in his house?!"

 

Hermione could see Harry warring with doing what Dumbledore wanted and doing something that seemed so… wrong. Hermione completely understood. It almost felt like a violation. Narcissa living in the same house that had been Sirius's. Unable to leave. How ironic. She would be imprisoned there just as her cousin had been. Draco didn't seem much happier than Harry at realizing the place they would be kept belonged to Harry.

 

Draco had closed his eyes at the revelation, and taken a few deep breaths. His mask was back in place but his fingers were gripping the side of the chair rather tightly. Hermione didn't think, just acted, placing her hand on top of Draco’s. She didn't say anything, and she kept her face trained on Harry, but her hand was steady. She had expected Draco to withdraw his, had only wanted to communicated some small measure of support, like an activation of their rings. But, he left his hand underneath hers, and she felt his grip on the chair slacken, if only marginally.

 

Lupin's voice sounded from across the room and Hermione realized with a start that he had not said anything all night, "You wish to imprison - and yes, even if it is voluntary I would consider it imprisonment - followers of Lord Voldemort in the headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix. And expect no declaration of loyalty in return?"

 

"Yes Remus. However their imprisonment, as you put it, does have the effect of making it so that they do not need to pledge any sort of loyalty."

 

Lupin looked thoughtfully at Dumbledore, and then turned to Draco. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Hermione and Draco's hands together.

 

"When you were in my class, I saw nothing other than your father's son through and through. Perhaps I was mistaken, or perhaps you have changed. It is difficult to see past our own biases, though it seems you've been able to move past some." He looked again to their hands, and then to Hermione before looking back at Draco. "Have you moved far enough past your own that you will accept this charity? Accept those you and your father fight against. Allow them to risk their lives for your safety. Accept a house that is not yours. Live in a house, the rightful owner of which died as a direct result of your 'cause'? A house now owned by Harry Potter?"

 

Hermione couldn’t imagine how Draco was keeping his cool, but he seemed almost unaffected. Lupin had only curiosity on his face, despite his harsh words.

 

Draco pulled his hand out from under Hermione's, and she looked at him in question, but he only raised a corner of his lip briefly, an almost smile, before lifting her hand back up and intertwining their fingers, looking at Lupin as he did so.

 

"Perhaps you were mistaken, though I think not. More likely I have changed. Or, my situation has changed. But you are correct that I have begun to look past some of my biases. I will not refute my beliefs, or argue them with you. But I would be grateful to accept your charity, as you artfully put it."

 

He leaned back slightly to take the rest of the members of the order in his view and Hermione recognized the beginnings of his 'professor' attitude as he did so.

 

"I am a Malfoy. And Malfoys are many things. Noble, proud, ambitious, intelligent, to name a few. However, we are also able to accept facts for what they are. We are _also_ able to, on occasion, 'see past our biases'. If you would like to look at it cynically, it is an act of self-preservation. If you prefer a Gryffindor slant, I am doing my best to protect my mother. Both are true. And for either of those reasons I am capable of putting aside my pride. If Harry is willing to allow us to reside in the Black residence, I would not hesitate to accept."

 

Draco glanced at Harry and Ron, both of whom looked rather like they had just been hit in the head with a set of frying pans "Well, I wouldn't hesitate too much at least."

 

The smile he gave Hermione was small, and certainly restrained but it made her heart grow inside her chest anyways. His hand felt good back in hers, and, although Snape and Mrs. Weasley both kept sending covert looks in their direction, as though their hands were unexploded grenades, it felt good to have people see him holding her hand.

 

"Malfoy… You owe me. Oh Merlin, you owe me so much for this. Ron, please remind me tomorrow that this was not a dream, because I am pretty sure I will not be able to believe it." Harry shook his head, "Yes, Dumbledore, they can use the house."

 

"Very well, thank you Harry, I, as well as the Malfoys, I am sure, appreciate the concession. You may go now if you'd like."

 

"But why am I here professor?" Ron seemed to regret the words as he said them, and began blushing slightly, but Dumbledore only smiled

 

"I guess you could say, emotional support?" Ron only looked confused, but Hermione was rather sure that Harry took comfort in Ron's presence the same way she usually did. Especially when having to give up his godfather's house. And now at least Harry wouldn't have to recount the entire evening back to him in the common room.  But that only explained Ron; surely Dumbledore didn't think Harry needed both of them to keep his head on.

 

"And me, Professor?"

 

"Hmm, I rather think the same thing." Hermione opened her mouth to question him further, but his eyes travelled between her and Draco and she understood. She was here for Draco. She felt Draco's grip tightly slightly, and knew he had understood the comment as well.

 

"Mr. Malfoy has asked to be included in the planning, you three may leave if you wish." And with that Dumbledore turned back to his desk, gesturing for the rest of the Order to follow.

 

Hermione looked over to Draco, who finally seemed to have removed at least part of his mask as he smirked at her, though with no heat behind it "You are the most nosey, insufferable witch I have ever met."

 

"And you, my dear Draco, are a complete ass."

 

"Hmm. Yes, you are quite right I’m afraid." He finally gave into his full smile, the one Hermione had never seen before a few months ago, and Hermione couldn't help but smile in response. They just looked at each other for a few minutes before Draco's face began to sober.

 

Hermione did not know where they stood. Their tone had been light, playful and she had felt happy just being able to joke with him again. But the memories of their last actual conversation were creeping back.

  

"Mr. Malfoy?"

 

Hermione jumped as though she had been electrocuted. The adults around the table seemed, to varying degrees of success, to hide the fact that they had all been watching them. Except of course Tonks who seemed to have no shame in her stare.

 

"Would you care to confirm the accuracy of these maps of Malfoy Manor? Dumbledore’s voice was even, but those damned twinkling eyes seemed to dance with concealed amusement.

 

"Certainly" Draco stood up, and straightened his cloak before turning back to Hermione. "You should go get some sleep. I will catch you up tomorrow. If you wish." A small smile, and he was all business again.

 

Hermione quickly stood. She had no desire to listen to the Order discuss tactics. She knew from pervious experience - helped largely from some of Fred and George's extendable ears, that although it might sound exciting, these discussions were endlessly dull. Quickly gathering her things Hermione waved a quick goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, the rest of the order had already turned back to the maps. As she slowly closed the door behind her she heard Draco comment,

 

"Yes well, although I am not entirely pleased that you have quite so accurate a map of my manor, it will make this easier. There are some things however, I will need to adjust…"

 

She couldn't believe that Draco had actually done it. She had hoped of course… but she had never really let that hope go too far. He was going to accept help from the order. Hermione wasn’t sure exactly what this changed, but she was sure that it was something. Sure that things were different.

 

Stepping down from the spiral staircase Hermione turned and almost ran straight into Harry, who seemed to have been pacing and, glancing behind him, she saw an angry and resigned Ron. They stood like that for a few seconds, just looking back and forth between each other before Hermione finally broke the silence.

 

"Harry, thank you. I mean… I didn't know, and that was really… I mean, I can't believe Dumbledore even asked, but, just… thank you. I guess" Hermione looked down at her hands, which she was currently knotting together.

 

"You didn't know?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Know they were going to ask Harry that." Ron's voice was rough with disbelief and the angry expression was still on his face. Harry didn't seem angry really, but he wasn't making any move to stop Ron.

 

"No! Of course not. I think it was rather cruel actually. And to ask with everyone there… Not like you were really given much of a choice. No, I never would have been okay with that Harry." She had turned to face Harry while speaking, hoping he would be able to read the sincerity on her face.

 

"But you knew he was going to ask for help from the Order." This wasn't a question, and Harry's tone was flat, but Hermione sensed he wanted to hear her say her answer.

 

"Yes. Well, actually, it was my idea. But I didn’t think…"

 

"Didn't think? Hermione, since when do you not think? Malfoy and mummy need a safe house, you jump right into action, not considering the fact that the only safe house the Order has is the one that belonged to Sirius. The one that has all of his stuff… his life… in that house. And now the Malfoys will be there. What do you think he'd have to say about that?"

 

"Harry, I didn't know. Honest. The Order could have any number of safe places! I still don't understand why Dumbledore wants to put them at headquarters! Why would I ever think he would do that? I didn't know Harry…"

 

It was late, and Hermione was so tired. She had barely slept at all the night before because she was so worried about what she had done, and she had been so nervous all day she had barely eaten a thing. She was nearing her tipping point and she could feel her eyes beginning to pool with tears.

 

"Harry," Ron stepped forward to stand next to his friend "Look at it this way. Now the Order will be watching Malfoy's every move. He won't mess with your house or Sirius's stuff. You really think Lupin would let that happen?"

 

Both Hermione and Harry were looking at Ron in confusion. Not because what he was saying didn't make sense, it did. But, because he was being, well… rational? No, that wasn't it. He was mediating. He was trying to calm Harry down. That was usually Hermione's role, and odd as it was to see Ron step forward and be unemotional - especially when dealing with Draco, Hermione was glad he was doing it. Her defending Draco would probably make things worse, but Ron doing it… well, that was enough to make anyone step back.

 

"Besides, just think how pissed that wanna-be Death Eater will be. Trapped in a house with only his mum for company." Ron shivered in disgust. "I wouldn't wish that on well… anyone but Malfoy."

 

Harry smiled a little bit at that and Hermione saw his posture begin to relax. They stood again in silence, but this time it was a little less awkward. Eventually it was Harry that broke it.

 

"Hermione, you're sure he is sincere about this?"

 

"Yes. Absolutely Harry. I know you don't have any reason to trust him or anything but… I mean, you know how he is about family. If you want to be cynical - like he was saying, he is protecting his family name."

 

"But what makes you so sure - the non-cynical reasons?"

 

"Well… The cynical reasons are part of it, I know that. But, he really does care about his mum. And you heard what Dumbledore said, she’s in danger. And honestly? Draco is smart. I know he is a lot of other things too, but he's really smart. How close do you think you could get to a madman before realizing he was mad? I think Draco may have just… hit that point. You know?"

 

Hermione felt slightly uncomfortable talking about Draco like this in front of them, not sure exactly what they would want to hear, or what Draco would want them to know. Ron at least looked just as uncomfortable as Hermione felt as he toyed with the hem of the shirt under his robes. Harry just looked at Hermione for a few seconds before he started to turn to walk down the corridor.

 

"Time?" Hermione asked quietly.

 

"Ya, little more time 'Mione"

 

And, although she shouldn't, Hermione felt a surge of hope. At least they didn't hate her. And if that was what one day did, well… she could give them time.


	37. Chapter 37

The plan the Order had finally decided on had taken most of the night to finalize. Or at least it felt that way to Draco. For a group of rebels acting against the ministry they were amazingly cautious. He was glad he had insisted on being part of the planning, as there were many defenses on Malfoy Manor that even Snape didn't know. And they seemed to be relying on Snape for most of their information.

 

This worried Draco considerably, but, from what he could tell, so far it had all been accurate.

 

When Snape had walked into Dumbledore's office earlier Draco had thought there was a mistake, that the headmaster would send the potions master packing before the Order arrived. Instead he had started up a pleasant conversation, drinking his tea, and keeping one eye on Draco.

 

It was clear that Snape was a spy for one side or the other, but if he was really working for the Order he was a better actor than Draco would have ever imagined. Draco had seen Snape worship at the Dark Lord's feet, had seen him torture muggles and muggleborns. Draco was fairly certain he had been among those watching his own punishment over Christmas break.

 

Draco watched the man he had known his entire life chat with Kingsley, the rather impressive man that Draco recognized from the ministry. His own father had been second only to Snape in the Dark Lord's favor. He had been trying to help Draco with his task all year long. Or maybe just trying to find out about it…Draco shook his head and tried to stifle a yawn - it had been a very long few days. Unfortunately Dumbledore had seen.

 

"Ahh, it would seem that time has gotten away from us again. Thank you all, so much, for coming. I will be seeing you all very soon. But, for now, I must insist," the headmaster waved a grand sweeping gesture towards the fireplace and the adults of the Order began slowly making their way. Most of them cast glances in Draco's direction, but only Tonks seemed inclined to actually speak to him before leaving.

 

"Wotcha Draco, I’ll admit, I was surprised.” She had a cheerful grin, and was speaking to him as though they were long time palls. “But, I'm glad to see you here. Listen, I won't be saying anything to my parents 'course but, you're welcome 'round if you ever want. After this is all over. You are family after all." Draco almost stumbled backwards in surprise as the witch in front of him changed her hair and eyes to match his exactly. He had heard something about her being a metamorphagus, but had never really considered it before. She shot him a smirk that was Malfoy through and through – even without changing her facial features, and laughed jovially as she spun to take her turn at the fireplace. Draco quickly steadied the table in from of him that she had almost knocked over before turning to leave himself, shaking his head.

 

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, it appears it is rather past curfew, if you wouldn't mind waiting a few moments Professor Snape will be able to accompany you to your dorm."

 

Draco was more than capable of making it to his dorm undetected - sans meddling Potter - but that was something he would rather like to keep to himself.

 

"Certainly."

 

Draco turned to take his previous seat in the corner. Not in Dumbledore's or Snape’s direct eye line, but close enough to still hear what they were saying. Not that he expected much but any information helped.

 

"Severus, I would have you continue what you were doing before. Adjusted of course, to account for new circumstances."

 

Snape merely gave him a curt nod.

 

"I also will be away again for a few days following this. I need you to watch Hogsmeade. I do not suspect anything obvious. But you know what to watch for."

 

Another curt nod.

 

"I also suspect Mr. Malfoy here will have a few questions for you." Draco straightened at the sound of his name, and he saw Snape's spine stiffen, tensing  "I have no authority to tell you what to say but, I would suggest candor over subversion. When you came to me many years ago your motivations were not dissimilar from Mr. Malfoy's here. Trust in each other is one of the strongest weapons we wield in times such as these.”

 

Snape did not nod this time, only stared at the headmaster, a fury in his eyes that had sent many students running. Eventually he turned and walked stiffly to the door and Draco hastened to follow.

 

"Sleep well Mr. Malfoy. I am glad you came to us today."

 

Imitating the potions mater Draco nodded curtly at the old man before exiting behind the quickly disappearing cloak of his professor.

 

"Snape."

 

The professor didn't falter in his quick stride.

 

"Snape!"

 

This time he slowed almost imperceptibly - but enough for Draco to catch up to him.

 

"What do you think you're playing at?"

 

Even though he had drawn parallel to the older man, he was still ignored.

 

"So, which is it then? Dumbledore or the Dark Lord? Though, I imagine either way getting to watch me and my mother tortured is just an added bonu -"

 

The grip on Draco's arm was so sharp he almost didn't notice that he was being shoved back into the wall - almost.

 

"Keep your voice down boy!"

 

Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything back. He had meant to needle Snape to get him to respond, but, now that he was, Draco had no desire to push him further.  Unfortunately, Snape seemed to take Draco's silence as cooperation and he turned to continue their trek down to the dungeons.

 

"No, Snape. We are not done."

 

The look on Snape's face surpassed any Draco had seen before. Unconsciously Draco drew back, putting more space between them. He had hardly been more intimidated when standing next to the Dark Lord. In fact, this may be worse. This was more… personal, more emotional - though he had never expected to describe his potion's master and old family friend as such.

 

"No, we certainly are not done. However, if you continue to shout about the Dark Lord in the school hallways I will have no problem ensuring that you will never utter another word again. Am I… Understood?"

 

Snape had always been a constant figure in Draco's life. As a child he had almost been like an uncle, not quite an authority figure, but not someone to cross either. More like, someone he could go to when he simply wished to get away from his parents - but that his parents didn't mind him going to. That had started to change around Draco's third or fourth year at school. Whether that was because of age, time, or the renewed rise of the Dark Lord, Draco was not sure. He also was not sure whether or not he regretted the change.

 

Certainly, more this year than any other, Snape's attentions had chaffed. But even before his task he had been straining at the supervision, all of his movements being watched. The other students, they got away from that kind of personal attention while at school, were free to act how they wanted, be friends with who they wanted.

 

But Draco had always had Snape there, watching him, reporting on him. Not that he had ever really wanted to do anything that Snape or his parents would particularly disapprove of. Well… until recently. But just knowing that he wouldn't have been able to had worn on him, caused him to pull away from his once almost-mentor. But Snape had pulled away too, or at least hadn't seemed to mind when Draco had.

 

Regardless of the reasons, it had been years since Draco had intentionally sought out any sort of conversation with Snape, years since he had wandered by Snape's office for a chat about potions.  Draco's step faltered slightly as Snape walked past the old familiar office door without a second glance. Draco had assumed that they would be speaking in there. Unless Snape didn't actually intend to speak at all and was just using this as an excuse to get Draco to his dorms without having to deal with the inevitable complaints any longer than necessary.

 

Draco was about to say something, demand that the professor speak to him, when he almost ran straight into the now stationary man. Barely sparing him a glance, Snape took out his wand and tapped an intricate pattern on the bare brick wall of the dungeons. Even used to secret doors and hidden rooms Draco had to shake his head slightly as the outline of a entryway appeared in the brick - it was so subtle, even if it had been visible before Snape's spell, Draco wasn't altogether sure he wouldn't have walked past without noticing anyway. 

 

Thought the 'wall' was still there it was a little opaque and Snape stepped forward, disappearing behind it, Draco following. Even when Draco and Snape had been close, Draco had never been to Snape’s private rooms, had never even considered the fact. It seemed almost - irreverent. Privacy was one of Snape's defining characteristics, and entering a space that was only 'his' seemed intrusive and uncomfortable, despite the obvious invitation to be there.

 

The room was disappointingly, well… regular. Small, but neat. The sitting room that served as entry way housed a fireplace on one wall, while bookshelves lined another. A surprisingly comfortable looking pair of lounge chairs and table were between the two leaving a path off to the third wall with a door leading, Draco assumed, to the bedroom or kitchen. The color scheme of dark wood and leather made the whole room seem rich in the light of the fireplace that Snape had just lit. The one weird thing about the room was the lack of personal effects - or rather, not weird thing - as it was Snape's room.

 

Turning from the fireplace Snape gestured at Draco to take a chair while he grabbed a glass and bottle of dark amber liquor from a small bar next to the door. It wasn't until he had poured himself a rather large serving of what Draco was sure was a very expensive scotch that Snape took the remaining seat and eyed Draco over his glass, slowly swirling the liquor before taking a small sip.

 

Now that he was here, Draco wasn't entirely sure where to start. If Snape was loyal to the Dark Lord his, and his mother's life, were in immediate danger. If he was loyal to Dumbledore… Well, that would be better but still wrong, somehow. It would mean he had betrayed them - all of them. Himself, his father, everyone.

 

Either way, Draco was sure he would not be happy with Snape by the end of this conversation. And, he was sure this would not be a particularly enjoyable conversation. He eyed the class in his professor's hand, if he ever had needed a drink, it would certainly be now. Of course, even if just out of impulse, Snape would refuse. Draco would just have to not give him the opportunity.

 

Eyes not leaving Snape's he pulled his wand from his robe to summon himself a glass and the bottle of liquor from the small table. Snape's eyebrows contracted slightly, but he made no move to interfere, so Draco poured himself his own drink, though slightly less full than Snape had poured for himself.

 

He had been right, the liquor was certainly expensive, and certainly a scotch, and it left a trail of tingling fire down Draco's throat after his first sip. Draco closed his eyes softly; taking a deep breath before starting… whatever it was that was about to start. Both Draco and Snape were used to people quelling under their looks, and as such neither was accustomed to being the first to speak in situations like these - situations where they wanted information from the other. However experienced Draco was in getting others to speak, he felt quite sure that Snape would be just as happy not talking, so it fell on him to begin.

 

"Lovely scotch Severus, what is it, '83?" 

 

Snape just stared at him, Draco was fairly certain he had never called him Severus before, it had felt weird coming off of his tongue. Apparently not shocking enough to get the man to start talking though.

 

"I prefer the '85 myself, more smoky, great balance. But the sweetness in this is… appealing." Still no response. "I love the room, by the way, the personal touches really add to it - you know? It is just obvious how loved you are, surrounded by so many mementos and memories." This was infuriating. He was mocking Snape, trying to get a rise out of him, anything out of him, but Snape was unaffected. Fine, if Snape wanted him to be direct he would be.

 

"So, are you a Death Eater or a traitor? Not sure which is worse, myself, but it seems those are your only two options."

 

Finally Snape reacted, a small dangerous smile forming on his thin lips. "Something we have in common then, it would seem."

 

"I believe I made my intentions rather clear tonight, Snape, in case you didn't notice."

 

"Yes… you came to the Order, worked with them, gave them information... Much as I did, it would seem."

 

"It is not the same Snape, and you know it.” Draco paused for a moment before continuing, “You have my life in your hands - are you going to deliver it to the Dark Lord or Dumbledore?"

 

Snape smirk widened even more "An interesting choice. A mad man or, well… A mad man. Neither one a very secure place to keep a life."

 

They fell into silence again, and Draco took the opportunity to appreciate another few swallows of the burning liquor, causing his slightly cracked lips to burn after he licked them.

 

This was the great thing about liquor, Draco thought, you can feel it. Other drinks, you only tasted, but liquor was physical, visceral, every part of your body feeling it. He took another deep swallow, before turning back to look at the dark man across from him. Shadows dancing over the familiar sharp face - cast by the fire beside them, making his expression even more impossible to read.

 

"It is simple Draco. You wish to know of my loyalties, and I wish to know of yours. You allowed me tonight to see that you were telling no obvious lies. I need more."

 

"You want to get further inside my mind? Determine my sincerity? Right. Let me just open up my mind to the Dark Lord's most trusted follower while I act against him. Anything else you want? My liver maybe? A pair of lungs? I will be as well-off without those as I would be with you in my mind!" Draco took a deep breath. The idea of Snape wanting to get through his occlumency barriers was not a good one and, Draco knew Snape could force himself through if he wanted, shatter the barriers Draco had in place. The barriers there protecting himself, protecting his mother, protecting Hermione… "The problem of _your_ loyalty remains surprisingly unaddressed."

 

"If I am satisfied with what I find, I will allow you a similar curtsey." Snape didn't flinch as he said this, but it was almost as though the room itself contracted around them. Inside Snape's mind? That was something he never wanted to see. But… He wouldn't trust any words from them man. The fact remained however, that it would require Draco to open his mind to someone whose loyalties he did not know. He could be handing Snape the proof he needed just to have him turn around and hand it to the Dark Lord.

 

"I still do not understand why you are doubting me in the first place, Snape. What possible reason would the Dark Lord have for having me ask for my mother to be rescued?"

 

"You mean what would the Dark Lord possibly gain from having a handful of the leading members of the Order of the Phoenix literally show up on his doorstep?" Snape looked at him like he had just fouled up a simple potion.

 

Draco went to take another drink from his tumbler only to find it empty. Disgruntled, Draco leaned forward to pour himself another glass.

 

"Picking up some of your father's less desirable habits, Draco?"

 

He only glared before continuing to fill his glass. Only a few people, apparently including Snape, were aware just how much his father drank. It didn't show, he didn't slur or stumble like what you imagine when you hear 'drunk'. But, the few times Draco had seen his father completely sober in the last few years had been - well, terrifying. He tried not to think about it. Draco didn't really mind his father drinking. It kept him calm.

And anyway, two glasses of scotch on a night like tonight was hardly uncalled for.

 

Draco tried to weigh his options, but he didn't really have them. He was pretty sure if he did not allow Snape into his mind the professor would force it. If that happened Draco would have no control over what the professor saw. If he allowed it, well, he could pick and choose. Show Snape just enough to make him see. But, not everything, not all of his doubts about the cause - only his sincerity in asking for help. Theoretically.

 

Draco looked at Snape, searching, but finding nothing. He downed his newly poured drink in one long, quick movement.

 

"Okay."

 

Snape didn't seem surprised by his acquiescence, in fact, he moved almost as though he had been waiting for it. Before Draco could even register the wand being drawn he felt the intrusion into his mind.

Of course, Snape had not wanted to give him time to prepare.

 

Gathering himself Draco slowly began to let down the foremost of his mental barriers, allowing Snape into his mind. He saw, as though he were back watching Hermione's muggle television, his memories playing out in his mind.

 

He was sitting at Malfoy Manor, accepting the task from the Dark Lord, he had felt so proud.

 

He was having the Dark Mark burned on his arm, his flesh searing under the Dark Lord's wand, a feeling of finality, the burn spreading through his entire body, wishing his father was there.

 

Saying goodbye to his mother as he left for school, excited, and brushing off the odd look in her eyes.

 

The adoration of his classmates as he hinted at his task.

 

Things started going faster now, more frantic, almost as though matching the deteriorating mental state Draco had experienced as time passed.

 

A letter from his mother that seemed - off.

 

His excitement at coming up with a plan smothered in his frustration at the cabinets.

Hours spent in the room of lost things.

 

His mother refusing to come see him.

 

Her handwriting – shaky.

 

His suspicion at the cause of her behavior confirmed carelessly in a callous letter sent from Mulciber, of all people.

 

Renewed determination and renewed doubt.

 

Avoiding his classmates.

 

Hermione calling him a Death Eater.

 

Hermione asking if he was okay.

 

Things slowed down again as the memory of her research played before him.

 

He could see the excitement shining through her eyes, even before she had trusted him, she was thrilled with the work.

 

Working on the potion together, sitting in a comfortable easy silence.

 

The first time they brewed the potion, how easily they had worked together, like they just fit. He could see her smiling at him, see the determination in her eyes, and in her solid stance before testing the potion on herself.

His stomach dropped just as it had experiencing it the first time when she fell to the floor unable to move.

 

He didn't think he would ever get the image of the terror, clear in her face, from his mind, but seeing it brought before him like this made his gut twist.

 

Then Hermione was in his arms, crying, falling asleep, and…

 

No. Draco had almost gotten lost in his own thoughts; almost let them play out, just so he could see them again. But that would mean Snape would see them.

 

No.

 

He could feel Snape's magic press against the barrier he had just erected, but Snape eventually moved on. And Draco wearily allowed the memories to continue to flash past, carefully pushing forward the most helpful, least personal ones. Although not entirely in control, Snape allowed Draco's directions with only an occasional detour.

 

They saw the completed potion, the first successful test, a screen of the muggle computer containing images of incomprehensible destruction, a squeaky rubber seat in a muggle diner, an alley way.

 

Then Draco finally managed to redirect Snape to Knockturn Alley, brewing a potion, the final test, feeling the intoxication of the Crucio, Hermione's face, her lips pressing against his, emotion exploding around them, and Draco threw up another barrier.

 

Then his manor, his mother drinking tea, her hand shaking, his own torture, Hermione's face appeared again, but before Draco could put up a barrier Snape moved on his own.

 

The letter telling his mother about the potion, followed by an image of his own hand, feeling the ring on his finger activate, finding out his mother had used all of the potion.

 

So soon.

 

The fear, panic, anger, Hermione's hand on his face, concern in her eyes. Meeting with Dumbledore, the small spark of hope he had felt.

 

And then it stopped.

 

Draco's hands shook. He did not know if it was from Snape's extended stay in his mind or from the jumble of emotions he had re-experienced so close together, so frantically. After a few calming breathes he looked back across at Snape. Daring him to continue to question him, daring him to make a remark about Hermione. He had not wanted him to see her at all, but now that he had, Draco would not pretend, would not make excuses.

 

"The potion - I saw the papers in the memory, but their contents, I can't seem to recall."

 

"The paper was spelled to be immediately forgotten when not in its presence. Hermione."

 

"Ahh… yes, prudent."

 

"The images on the computer?"

 

"Fall-out from a muggle atomic bomb."

 

"That is what I thought, yes…"

 

It was rather uncomfortable, sitting here with someone that had just been inside his mind. He knew Snape had experienced the chaos of emotion that Draco had, had experienced the memories almost as if he were Draco himself. It was like sitting around while someone read your diary - only worse.

 

"You cast the Crucio on the Granger girl?" The memory hadn't shown who the spell was directed at, but Draco knew that Snape already had the answer to that, and so he said nothing. Snape tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement.

 

How long they sat across from each other simply staring, each apparently lost in their own thoughts, Draco did not know. But, when Snape finally did speak Draco started at the sudden noise.

 

"I believe you know the correct spell, you may proceed."

 

Draco was not nearly so quick to act as Snape had been. He didn't know what he was about to experience but he couldn't imagine it would be pleasant. Sitting straighter, Draco cast the spell that would allow him to push into Snape's mind.

 

He had been correct. This was not pleasant. The first thing Draco noticed was panic. Pure, animal, unthinkable panic. He heard a voice - Snape's, but he couldn’t see anything.

 

"Don't kill me, please."

 

"I'm not going to kill you Severus." Draco recognized Dumbledore's voice, but he still couldn't see anything, only feel, and hear, and it was all scattered.

 

"He thinks it means her!'

 

"You must save her!"

 

“And what will you give me in return, Severus?’  Dumbledore's voice again

 

"In – in return? Anything...” 

 

And then suddenly Draco couldn't help put cry out from the pain. His heart in a thousand pieces. Like nothing he had ever felt before. And he knew, he knew, she was dead. He had killed her. He had said he would try not to, but he had killed her, and oh god. She was dead, and every second that he continued breathing the pain seemed to grow.

 

It was a minute before Draco's mind cleared enough that he remembered where he was, who he was, and what he was doing.

 

So much pain, Snape had felt so much pain. But, who? And he pushed slightly deeper, his curiosity acting before he thought about it. He glanced shining red hair, heard a tinkling laugh, felt the pressure of his hand holding another's, soft and small, but in a sure firm grip. A glowing doe, made of light, standing next to him shining. And then it was gone. And he sat in Snape's dim, meticulous sitting room, free of personal effects, free of feelings, free of warmth.

 

Draco's chest ached, physically ached. And he was shaking again. Or maybe he had never stopped. And, oh god. He would do anything to see his mother, make sure she was safe. His Slytherins. Hermione. Merlin. His heart ached in a way he hadn’t known was possible.

 

He wanted, no, he needed to see Hermione. He didn't know why. But he knew this was one impulse he would not make himself ignore.

 

Not for too long at least.

 

He looked up at Snape but the professor refused to meet his eyes, staring instead down at the recently filled drink in his hand.

 

"The Dark Lord. He killed her." It wasn't really a question, but Draco could still feel the remnants of Snape's emotions, the anger, and he couldn't help himself. "I can't believe he killed her." Draco didn't even know who she was. But that didn't really matter.

 

"Yes." Draco could hear the bitterness in Snape's voice, and was surprised he had actually answered.

 

There was a few seconds of silence then Snape spoke again, but he was effectively back to his sharp emotionless tone "Well, if we are done here…" and he gestured to the door.

 

Draco quickly stood, glancing around the room once more before turning to leave. He considered saying something, felt like he should really, but nothing came to mind, and he opened the door to leave.

 

"She was a mudblood. Like Granger." Snape's voice was soft, almost as though he was speaking to himself, and Draco didn't think he was expecting a response, didn't think he would want one, and shut the door softly behind him.

 

 

Draco's emotions were still a wreck, he wasn't entirely sure what the exact cause was. But, the combination of the last few days, no sleep, having his mind invaded, feeling Snape's mind, and the two tumblers of scotch he had consumed on an otherwise empty stomach were all probably playing their own role. He pulled out his wand and activated the ring on his hand, sending the 'meet immediately' pattern, and hurried to the potions room before he could think too much.

 

He had to wait just long enough to start doubting his actions, but he had no way to take it back, so he stayed. Of course she wouldn't come, it was the middle of the night now, she was surely still angry.

 

She shouldn't come. He had pushed her away for a reason. This was a bad idea. A bad, scotch induced idea.

 

But just as he decided he would leave now, before she came (if she came), the door to the potions room opened slowly, then closed, and, after a whispered spell to remove her disillusionment charm Hermione was standing before him.


	38. Chapter 38

Draco almost laughed in relief. The ache that had been strangling his heart since being in Snape’s mind loosened immediately.

 

Hermione had clearly been asleep, and she stood before him in a large t-shirt with the words "Cambridge Uni" across the front and plaid flannel bottoms. Her footwear however, is what made Draco start to laugh.

 

Large, fuzzy, and hot pink, Draco was sure he had never seen anything quite so un-Hermione as the slippers currently on her feet.

 

Her expression had been concerned when she walked in but as Draco started laughing she just looked confused. Eventually, as his laughing continued, and he had to lean against a desk to steady himself, trying to catch his breath, she began to look concerned again.

 

"Draco?"

 

"T-Those, those -" He couldn't breathe, let alone speak. He tried again, sobering slightly "Those slippers!" and then he collapsed into his laughter again, this time leaning fully on the desk in front of him, shaking.

 

"Slippers?" Hermione looked down as though not aware she was wearing the most ridiculous slippers ever created, and apparently she had not been. "Oh, these are Lavender’s, I must have grabbed them by mistake. I was half asleep, rushing down here after the ring woke me up."

 

Hermione's tone indicated that she was trying to scold him, but Draco didn't mind. She was here, and she was wearing absolutely absurd pink slippers.

 

"Draco, are you… What's wrong?"

 

Why would she think something was wrong? He was laughing, not yelling. Laughing was generally a good thing, right? But, a glance at Hermione's face showed genuine concern, and Draco began to realize his reaction might be slightly disproportionate...

 

She walked over, taking him by the shoulders, turning him to face her.

 

He might be slightly out of control.

 

Draco gasped suddenly at the realization, and his laughter stopped abruptly as he sunk down to sit on the floor, putting his head in his hands.

 

Oh god. What was happening with his head?

 

It had to be a side effect from the occlumency.

 

Something that Snape had done - Snape had blocked him from his actual thoughts, but entirely surrendered the emotions.

 

And Draco was still reeling.

 

He needed to think. Needed to bring back some sort of silence to his thoughts.

 

With an effort Draco began building up the barriers and walls that were usually second nature to him.

 

It took longer than it should have, but finally he began to feel like himself again. Snape's emotions were slowly leaving his mind and loosing their potency. It wasn't until his breathing began to slow and calm that he realized it had been racing before.

 

\---

 

Hermione had no idea what was going on or why she was here.

 

She actually wasn't at all convinced that she wasn't still in her four-poster dreaming. But, dreaming or not the person in front of her (who she was not at all convinced that it was actually Draco) seemed completely unaware of her presence. Well, since the laughter had ended at least.

 

Unsure and afraid to startle him in his current state, Hermione waited it out. Eventually the gasping slowly turned to semi-regular breaths and Hermione thought it might be ok to move again. She had been standing and watching him for what felt like a very long time.

 

She thought about saying something, maybe comforting him somehow, but, frankly, she didn’t dare. What do you say to a Malfoy having a mental breakdown in front of you?

 

Over the past few months Hermione had seen a different side of Draco, but she had also confirmed that he was a death eater, that he knew how to perform an unforgivable curse, that he was dangerous. And right now he seemed completely cracked.

 

She trusted him - but she could tell he wasn't really himself right now.

 

Finally settling on just sitting in front of him, she was forcefully reminded of an animal in a trap. At her movement his eyes jumped to hers, wide and full of… something. More emotion then Hermione had ever seen in them before, but she couldn't understand what they were trying to say.

 

Draco was usually so communicative with his face, but all she felt looking at it now was an overwhelming confusion.

 

Almost immediately after meeting her eyes Draco averted his, looking up and clearing his throat.

 

"Hermione, I… I apologize; I should not have called you. My mind… I… I was not thinking straight."

 

His tone was almost painfully polite, formal, like they were in a business meeting, and he was apologizing for being late.

 

"Draco…" But she had no idea how to finish. Following his lead she cleared her throat and looked over the blackboard to her left. She could faintly see her handwriting, not completely erased. It seemed like forever ago, writing lists of ingredients at Draco's direction.

 

Before she really trusted him,

 

before they were friends,

 

before they… weren't again.

 

"Draco."

 

"Hermione."

 

"You smell like Whiskey."

 

He finally met her eyes, clearly not expecting the comment, and she thought she might have seen his lips twitch slightly, as though thinking about smirking before deciding not to.

 

"Scotch."

 

"Same thing."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Scotch and whiskey - they're basically the same thing." He still wasn't smiling, but she thought maybe his eyes were clearing up? Certainly they narrowed at her comment.

 

"You must be joking? They are nothing- Scotch is a subtype of - For the sake of my sanity I am going to try to forget you said that."

 

"I believe your sanity was in question before I made any such claim" She made the comment before realizing its implications given Draco's erratic behavior.

 

"Yes. Astute observation."

 

"No, Draco, I didn't mean… I just meant in like, a general sense, not just barely, I didn't mean -"

 

"Oh, you meant to imply I regularly give cause for my sanity to be questioned?" His tone was flat, but his eyes twinkled in a rather striking imitation of Dumbledore and Hermione smiled carefully at him.

 

"Yes. Exactly."

 

Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. Eventually he took a deep breath, roughly running his hands through his already mussed hair.

 

Hermione had to force herself to look away. She was pretty sure that mussed Draco was one of her favorite things to see. It was unfortunate that it always coincided with something being wrong.  The silence between them now was bordering on awkward, and she had no idea how to breach it.

  

Hermione still wasn’t exactly sure where they stood, but now was not really the time to discuss that. Draco still had that slightly lost expression on his face.

 

"Yes, well... Is there a reason you called me down here in the middle of the night?"

 

"I needed to see you."

 

"Um… Ok. Why did you need to see me?"

 

"He just… He missed her so much, and I needed to…" He stopped talking suddenly, as though he had only just realized he was doing it. The lost look in his eyes faded a little as he straightened his shoulders. "Have you ever heard of legilimency having lingering side effects on the caster?"

 

"On the caster? No, but I have heard being on the receiving end isn't exactly a pleasant experience." She had actually done quite a bit of reading on the effects of legiilmency from the receiving end once they had found out about Harry taking his occlumency lesson. But, she had passed over the parts on actually casting legilimens, assuming that breaking into someone's mind was not something she, or her friends, would be tasked with any time soon.

 

Of all the times for her not to do extra research.

 

"Have you been doing Legilimency on someone?"

 

He didn't answer, but he really didn't need to. Hermione racked her brain, trying to remember something of what she had skimmed at the beginning of the school year, finding comfort in the familiarity of knowledge in such a weird experience.

 

"Occlumency can make you weak, emotionally drained… when you cast legilimens you feel the emotions of the subject as the subject experiences it... There was a case a while ago where a wizard was setting muggles up - making them ridiculously happy - and then putting them in the path of other wizards who would cast legilimens on them, and they would re-live that happiness through them. Rather like a drug… Um, that's all I can remember."

 

"That's fine. Nothing I did not already know. It just seemed very… extreme."

 

"Well, I imagine the strength of the emotion would reflect the strength with which it was originally felt. I would also hazard a guess that intoxication amplifies the effects…"

 

He raised his eyebrow at her but didn't comment. He was obviously getting back to normal. Responding in full sentences, actually making facial expressions. Almost back to human being status.

 

"Earlier tonight - in Dumbledore's office - did Snape use legilimency on you?"

 

He looked up at her, clearly startled that she had noticed, but nodded "Not fully. Not then at least. But yes."

 

"He doesn't trust you?"

 

"Do any of them? I think Snape was just the only one to say it. Well, Snape and the wolf."

 

"Lupin," she emphasized his name "would not have agreed if he did not trust you to some degree - none of them would have."

 

"Oh ya? Harry Potter trusts a Malfoy?"

 

"Well… I guess he just trusts Dumbledore."

 

"Yes, I believe that is a much more accurate assessment."

 

"… I am glad you are going through with it. I mean, with getting your mum out and all."

 

Draco looked at her fully, and, for the first time all night he seemed actually… present.

 

"Hermione," He raised a hand to her, twisting a stray curl around his long finger before lightly tucking it behind her ear.

 

She felt a moment of embarrassment, remembering that she had practically run here from the dorm, still in her pajamas and her hair hastily shoved into a messy ball, but she was quickly distracted as his now freed finger glided lightly down her neck.

 

"Hermione. I am going to say something that I actually have no recollection of ever saying before, and hopefully will never say again, so, savor this moment. I am sorry - for what I said. Before."

 

Gods, he had practically cringed while saying it. And, although she was pretty sure she had managed to keep her eyes from rolling, she was not able to keep the small smile off of her face.

 

"I'm sorry too. For telling Harry and Ron. I know it wasn't my place."

 

"Well, what are you going to do to make up for it?"

 

"Excuse me?”

 

Make up for it? She had accepted his apology!

 

Why would he expect her to - Oh.

 

Her thoughts were quite effectively derailed as Draco's lips found hers.

 

"A joke, Granger." He mumbled against her, his breath dancing across her mouth

 

Hermione's only response was to pull him back into the kiss.

 

She couldn't count how many times she had thought about kissing him in the last few months - despite her best efforts - but none of it came close to the reality.

 

His mouth was hot and heavy, searching hers, like he couldn't reach enough. The feel of his hands on her back and in her hair, pulling them even closer together. She could taste the liquor he’d obviously been drinking earlier and it made the whole thing seem even more exciting. She'd never much considered drinking before, it just hadn't interested her. But now she was pretty sure the flavor of scotch, when mixed with the taste of Draco, may be a new favorite thing.

 

"You taste…. Dangerous."

 

"Ha! Dangerous?" Draco had actually laughed at her words, a small bark of a laugh, and he was taking small slow steps forward forcing her to walk backwards with him. Hermione hadn't even noticed they were moving at all until she felt the wall behind her back, barely a breath of space separating Draco from her. She reached up to pull him closer, but as soon as she moved she felt a tight grip on both of her wrists as Draco pinned them above her head, just high enough to feel a pull in her shoulders.

 

Draco moved forward even more so that the only part of them not pressed together was their faces.

Hermione's heart raced, her first instinct to being so powerless was an immediate panic. She pulled on her arms, trying to free her hands but Draco held tight, pressing against her even harder with his hips and she gasped - from fear or arousal she couldn't tell. Maybe both. Was that possible?

 

"Tell me Granger, what does danger taste like?" Draco leaned forward and Hermione couldn't help but respond, reaching out to kiss him, but he did not let her. Instead he deftly took her bottom lip between his teeth pulling gently at first, but with a sharp bite before letting go.

 

She looked back at him and was surprised to see that he actually seemed to be waiting for an answer. He wanted her to talk right now? With them together like this? She could barely think for the pounding of her heart, the blood rushing through her body. She could feel him pressed against her and all she could think about was feeling more. And he wanted her to talk? She reached forward again with her lips, hands still trapped above her head, trying to kiss him, but he only moved back again, just out of reach.

 

"Danger tastes like… scotch" She leaned forward quickly, stealing a small peck before he could move back "Like potion." She leaned forward again, this time he pressed into the kiss before moving out of her reach again "like using a disillusionment charm to sneak out at midnight, like dusty old books in the restricted section, better off not read, old enemies and Slytherin armies… and you.”

 

This time she didn't have to lean forward, Draco's lips found hers.

 

Immediately she utilized this distraction, pushing back she spun him around against the wall. She had to use both of her hands to hold his up against the wall, but he didn't struggle, only pressed harder into the kiss, their lips bruising against each other, hungrily exploring and tasting what they hadn't been able to for months.

 

Hermione wasn't sure how long they remained in the abandoned classroom but they were both shocked out of their private world at the sound of a crackling that could only have belonged to Peeves.

 

She heard Malfoy mutter "bollocks" under his breath as he noticed his wand on the floor where he had dropped it earlier, but Hermione already had hers out. After summoning his wand to him, she had barely finished casting a disillusionment on them before the poltergeist raced through the solid wall next to the door.

 

"I knew I'd - " Peeves paused, confused at the seemingly empty room. Hermione didn't want to think about why Peeves had known there were students in this room, and she couldn't help but blush at the recollection of some of the noises they had been making only moments before. Thankfully they were still dressed, if slightly disheveled. She was sure peeves would never let an abandoned pile of student’s clothing go without further action.

After a quick turn around the room Peeves left, head down, looking more disappointed than Hermione had ever seen him.

 

Waiting a few minutes to make sure Peeves didn't come back Hermione began giggling as she reversed the disillusionment charms on them both, clearing her throat and attempting to straighten her unruly hair. Draco looked back at her, a crooked smile on his face.

 

"Well, um, I should probably get back… I um, I will see you tomorrow?" Hermione turned to leave, pausing before actually opening the door "Will you be okay?" He seemed fine now, but not an hour ago Draco had been practically crumbing.

 

"I’m fine Hermione. Don't worry about earlier."

 

Hermione’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes but she slowly turned to leave. Just before she had closed the door behind her she heard Draco speaking,

 

"Granger, you're far more dangerous to me than I could ever be to you. "

 

She turned to ask what he meant, but Draco had already turned his back to the door, straightening his robes.

 

Wondering if she had actually heard what he said correctly, she quietly cast her disillusionment charm again and began the walk back to her dorm.

 


	39. Chapter 39

Although Draco did not particularly want to go back to his dorms tonight, the liquor, and then Hermione had been the only things keeping his exhaustion at bay. Now that they were both gone he felt ready to collapse. How he ended up back at his bed he wasn't entirely sure, but once there he was surprised to feel himself immediately start drifting to sleep. How long had it been since he had slept - more than a day, certainly?

 

Maybe two?

Too long. That was all he knew for sure.

Pulling the covers up to chase off the ever-present chill of the Slytherin rooms the only thing Draco seemed able to think about was what Hermione had said to him,

 

"You taste like… danger"

 

It was so kitsch - so contrived and cliché. If he had heard of someone saying that in a story he would have laughed out loud, but the way Hermione had said it…. Fuck.

 

But he had meant what he said; if either of them were a danger to the other it was definitely her. The way she made him feel, the things he would do for her… danger was not a strong enough word for that. But then he remembered the look in her eyes, the taste of her… and he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

 

The next morning Draco was startled to wake up. Not that he didn't expect to wake up, but because he actually felt himself wake up. Usually in the morning Draco laid in bed, not quite knowing when or if he had actually fallen asleep in the night. But now he woke up slowly, stretching his arms above his head, unconsciously imitating last night, a smile on his lips. Despite the fact that he couldn’t have actually slept for more than two or three hours.

 

"Ha, Malfoy with a smile - haven't seen that in awhile."

 

"Zambini, quick, check out the window, see if any pigs are flying"

 

"No need mate, Malfoy here just had himself a good dream - if you know what I mean."

 

It took a second for Draco to realize he was listening to his housemates talk about him, another to register their laughter.

 

"Ahh see, now the smile is gone, all is right with the world. Well, almost all at least…"

 

More snickering.

 

Cracking an eye open Draco attempted to convey as much contempt as possible as he looked around at his fellow Slytherins, but this only seemed to make them laugh more.

 

"What they hell is wrong with - " Oh. Draco stopped himself from reacting immediately in his embarrassment. He slowly sat up, raising his legs to obscure his very obvious erection, previously tenting the single sheet that remained to cover him and rolled his eyes "I enjoy being admired as much as the next guy, but perhaps you should at least attempt to hide your awe. I might start getting the wrong idea."

 

"I don't give a fuck about your prick," Zambini was sitting on his bed, right next to Draco's "What I want to know is how a dream about potions gets you like that. I mean - we all know you like the subject, but this is just another level Malfoy."

 

"Potions, Zambini?"

 

"That's what you were mumbling, 'something something potion tastes about right'"

 

"Are you watching me while I sleep _and_ staring at my prick in the mornings? Zambini, you're really not trying to hide it at all are you?"

 

The others laughed at this, but Zambini just looked thoughtful. Had he said something else in his sleep? Had he said Hermione's name? He couldn't remember much about the dream, but he did remember brewing a potion with Hermione, tasting it, then tasting Hermione, licking a slowly up her stomach, leaving behind a trail of potion wherever he touched, turning her skin a soft rose color fading to swirls of black…

 

"Still doesn't explain why potions get you about ready to burst Malfoy."

 

Apparently Zambini was not to be deterred. "Are you truly that desperate Blaise? You need someone else's fantasies to get you off? I'm afraid this one won't help you much there, but then again, maybe it will. I mean, even you can see how attractive your mother is."

 

More guffaws from the rest of the room as Draco got up, getting ready for the day. Zambini only shot him a dirty look before leaving the room. His mother was an easy target, and Draco was almost embarrassed he had resorted to it, but it was the one surefire way to get Zambini to stop talking - something he usually had a very hard time doing.

 

Draco was actually planning on going to classes today - not because he actually felt like he needed to - but because he needed to find a way to talk to Potter without suspicion from Hermione. And the only time Hermione’s attention was not on her friends was in class, when it was undividedly on the lecture.

Thankfully the same was not true for the wonder boy.  He seemed determined to look anywhere but at Snape as he sat in his usual seat in the back of the defense classroom. Thankfully Snape seemed almost as determined to look anywhere but at Draco, so it was with little trouble that he was able to spell a piece of parchment into the side of Potter's head, knocking his glasses askew. Draco grinned; he really did have impeccable aim.

 

Potter turned to glare at him, crumpling the paper in his hand as if about to throw it back - like Snape wouldn't notice that and immediately take points from Gryffindor. Draco was almost temped to let it happen, unfortunately he needed Potter to actually read the note, not just get points taken away with it - though he would remember that tactic for another time.

 

Draco shook his head slowly and mimed reading a book with his hands.

 

"Mr. Potter, do you find your Slytherin classmates more interesting than the lecture? Perhaps you would like to join them on this side of the room for the rest of class?" Snape gestured to an empty seat right next to Draco "Now, Potter. Move."

 

Draco smirked at the look of abject horror on Weasley's face, before turning to look at Potter - who inclined his head slightly to indicate he’d read the note, before fixing the usual ugly glare onto his face.

 

After class Draco made his way to the place he had told Potter to meet him. It was an unfortunate place to be - for any reason - but they were sure not to be interrupted at least.

 

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Malfoy? Really?" Potter walked into the room slowly, and Draco could see his hand in his robe pocket, securely gripped around his wand.

 

Draco crossed his arms, leaning back against a stall door. "Are you going to curse me Potter?" truthfully Draco's fingers itched to be holding his own wand, but he didn't want Potter to think he was frightened of him.

 

"Only if you give me reason to Malfoy. What do you want?"

 

"I'm surprised you were able to shake off your side kick, where did you send the Weasel off to?"

 

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

 

"Eager to get away from me? Yes, I suppose I am rather intimidating."

 

Potter didn't rise to the bait; instead he just turned to walk back out the door.

 

"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a bunch, I'll get to the point. It's no fun when you don't fight back. They finished their plans to get into Malfoy Manor last night. I plan on joining them. I thought you might want to as well."

 

"There is no way they are letting you go on the mission."

 

"Who said anything about 'letting''? I only said I would be joining them."

 

"Why? So you can sabotage the mission?"

 

"Yes, Potter, I want to sabotage my own mother's rescue attempt. Merlin, you are as slow as you look, aren't you?"

 

"That's assuming the rescue is legitimate Malfoy, which I'm not entirely sure I believe."

 

"Well, lucky for me, it doesn't matter if you believe it or not."

 

"Seems like it kind of does as you're the one asking me for the favor here Malfoy."

 

"I am going whether you come along or not Potter."

 

"Then why ask me to come along at all?"

 

"Your cloak, Potter. It's not you I want, it’s your cloak. I assume you won't be lending it out to me, so if I want it - I have to deal with you."

 

"Right, and what makes you think I would ever do something for you Malfoy?"

 

"Because I know you Potter. Now that you know there is a way to get in on playing the hero, you'll do it. Even if it means helping me. Plus, like I said, I'm going with or without you. You don't trust me. You're really going to let me sneak along on a Phoenix mission without being there to watch me?"

 

"Or I could just go tell Dumbledore."

 

"Sure. But then you would have no way of going yourself - even with your cloak; they'd be on the lookout for you. You're going to let all those people risk their lives while you sit in your common room playing exploding snaps?"

 

Draco knew Potter wouldn't be able to resist, he was nothing if not predictable.

 

"Tell me the plan." He seemed angry at himself as the words came out of his mouth.

 

"Do I have your word? You will join me - with your invisibility cloak?"

 

Another predictable thing. A Gryffindor would never go back on their word if they could help it.

 

"Yes Malfoy - you have my word. Now tell me."

 

It took Malfoy less time than he expected to tell Potter the plan the Order had come up with last night. Whether it was better or worse that the plan was so simple Draco didn't know. It made him unaccountably nervous thinking about everything that could go wrong - but there was nothing they could do beforehand, they would just have to be prepared for anything, as Kingsley had said last night.

 

"Potter, you have agreed to help. Now, let me tell you how important it is that you keep your word. There are other protections on the house - protections no one knows about except my parents and myself. If I am not with the Order as they carry out their plan, they will be caught. In a very painful manner. Without the willing presence of a Malfoy the manor can be rather… hostile."

 

"Your house is hostile? Well, that fits."

 

"They are very dark protections Potter. Not even Dumbledore would be able to break them."

 

"And you can?"

 

"I don't need to, it is my home - I am welcome. Regardless that the Order is working with me - they are still breaking in."

 

"And you didn't tell the Order about these protections because…?"

 

"Because no matter the reason I would not be allowed to accompany them on the mission. They would attempt to work around the curses or break them. This is impossible, and will only waste time. There is no time to waste. So we will accompany them. Invisible. And allow them to accomplish their mission."

 

"And if I had said no?"

 

"You wouldn't have."

 

"Alright Malfoy. Meet me in the great hall tonight - 10:00 Sharp."

 

"And then what Potter? We stroll with the professors to Hogsmeade? The cloak may hide us, but I doubt they wouldn't notice us trying to side along apparate with them."

 

"Well, it's your house Malfoy, don't you have someway to get there?"

 

"Plenty - but none that wouldn't alert the servants of my arrival. We will be taking thestrals."

 

"What?"

 

"I got the idea from you, as loath as I am to admit it. That's how you got to the ministry last year, yes? Unorthodox, but effective."

 

"Why not brooms?"

 

"The thestrals are faster, and will automatically take the most direct route. I have never flown there, and do not know the quickest way from the air."

 

"Fine, whatever. We should still meet in the Great Hall at 10:00. Are we done here?"

 

"9:30 Potter, Thestrals may be faster than brooms, but they aren't faster than apparation."

 

Potter only jerked his head in a quick nod before turning and walking out without another word. That was quite possibly the longest they had been in each other's presence without throwing a curse. Draco only hoped they'd be able to maintain that for their trip that night.

 

After talking with Potter the rest of the day drug on. There were so many things about to happen, so much about to change, and he sat at a desk listening to a lecture on hundred-year-old goblin wars.

 

Each second pushing him closer to either freedom or disaster.

 

Finally, at 9:15 Draco couldn't help it anymore. Sneaking to the Great Hall he found a place in a shadowy corner to wait for Potter to come down the stairs. It was almost 30 minutes later when he finally heard voices whispering in the direction of the stairs.

 

"He's supposed to be here."

 

"Probably chickened out."

 

"You don't know that Ron."

 

"Quiet, both of you, someone will hear us."

 

"Someone did hear you. I thought I said just you Potter."

 

Draco stepped forward, walking in the direction of the voices, though he still could see no one. Finally Potter dropped the cloak low, revealing three floating heads.

 

"They caught me sneaking out."

 

"They caught you? While you were wearing the invisibility cloak? Gods, how do you even function?"

 

"Hey! It wasn't my fault!"

 

"Really Harry, you should know by now that Crookshanks can see through the cloak."

 

"Yes, but he doesn't usually try to take our faces off when we are under it!"

 

"That's because usually I am with you under it. Or, at least you’re not hiding from me."

 

"Crookshanks may have sniffed out Scabbers, I’ll give him that, but there is no way he can tell when I'm hiding from you Hermione."

 

"He didn't care that you were hiding mate - it's the tassels, he hates those tassels on your jacket."

 

"This is interesting and all, really, but can we get back to the matter at hand?"

 

"Oh, right, we better hurry if we want to get to the Manor on time."

 

"Hermione, you're not coming. Neither is Weasel. I wouldn't even have Potter here if I could help it. The more people come the more likely it is that we are caught."

 

"There's no way I'm letting you or Harry do this alone. You two would probably kill each other before you even got there. Besides, unless you think we will have time to sit and brew a potion, I am better than you in every other subject. I’m going."

 

Even though Draco could only see Hermione's face he knew she was clenching her hands in fists, resting them on her hips. He also knew it was no good trying to reason with her.

 

"Ok, fine, but no Weasel."

 

"Ha, not likely. If these two are going I'm going, Ferret."

 

"And what exactly do you bring to the table then? Potter's got the cloak, Hermione's got the brains. I’m afraid we won't need any lackluster comedic relief. So no, you're not coming."

 

"If Ron isn't going, I'm not going. And you need my cloak"

 

"You were fine with him not coming before."

 

"That was before."

 

"Merlin, this is ridiculous. Do whatever you want, but don't expect me to rescue you when you inevitably do something stupid. Come on."

 

Draco spun on his heal walking as quickly as he could through the front doors and down to the forbidden forest, not stopping until he was right at the edge. Waiting a few seconds for the trio to catch up he slowly began walking into the forest. As he walked he pulled out a bag from his cloak pocket. He had taken it from the table during dinner. Thestrals preferred raw meat of course, but they wouldn't turn their nose at a free meal - even if it was a little less bloody than they liked. Once they reached a clearing about ten minutes from the edge of the forest he threw the meat down in the center and stepped back to wait.

 

Hermione however walked right to the center, pulling out her own bag.

 

"How in the world did you get raw meat?"

 

"The kitchens."

 

"And they just gave you a bag of raw meat?"

 

"Yup."

 

"And you know how to get to the kitchens because…?"

 

Hermione just looked back at him and smiled. The other two stood off to the side nibbling on their own pilfered food. Thankfully fully cooked.

 

"Harry, you will have to tell me when they come out, I still can't see them."

 

"There are two coming out of the clearing right in front of you."

 

"Draco, how can you -" Hermione cleared her throat, and looked quickly away. Though they boys to his left couldn't seem to stop staring at him.

 

"Really? You’re convinced I’m a Death Eater, but are surprised that I have seen death?" Finally they turned back to look at the front of the clearing.

 

A few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence before the thestrals finally got the courage to walk into the clearing and start picking at the meat Hermione had laid there - leaving Draco's offering untouched.

 

"There are only two, but it is already almost ten, we can't wait any longer." Draco slowly stepped forward, gently patting one of the animals on its scaly neck. "Hermione, come over to me, I'll help you on."

 

Hermione slowly walked over to him, obviously not looking forward to the ride, but she did not protest. Draco gently took her hand, guiding it under his so she could feel the shape of the animal.

 

"Put both hand here - no, a little higher, Good, Now, I’m going to lift you up and set you on her back, then just swing your leg over, Got it?" Hermione nodded slowly, as though afraid a quick movement would startle the thestral and make it run. Or maybe she would startle herself and she would be sprinting back to the castle.

 

Draco stepped lightly to stand in front of Hermione. She had both her hands on the thestral’s mane, and Draco took her hips, shifting her to face away from the animal instead of toward with it. "Ready?"

 

Another nod was all he got, but he took that as agreement enough and lifter her up and back, so she was sitting on the creature like it was a bench. She let out a little squeak when Draco had let go of her sides as though she expected to keep falling "Think you can get your leg over yourself?" Her hands tightened on the animal's neck but she straightened her shoulders, slowly shifting to the correct position.

 

"Alright, you two ready?"

 

Not only were they not ready, Potter and Weasley were still standing exactly were they had been before, staring at Hermione on the thestral and Draco next to her, eyes wide in shock.

 

"Need me to lift you up too Weasel?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

"Right… I mean, No. Bugger off Malfoy" Ron turned to walk towards the thestral, unfortunately, or fortunately Draco thought, he was closer than he thought and ran straight into it.

 

Eventually he made his way up, and a second later Potter jumped on in front of him.

 

"Harry, maybe you should ride with Hermione" Ron was eyeing Draco with obvious distrust.

 

"You want to ride with me Weasley? I'm touched."

 

"I don't want to ride with you Malfoy - but if it means Hermione doesn't have to, I will"

 

"How noble. Though I am pretty sure Hermione is okay with it, maybe you should consult with her before trying to protect her from the big bad Slytherin."

 

"Look here Malfoy - "

 

"Ron, it's fine, I'll ride with Draco. Let's just go. The sooner we leave the sooner I can get off this thing."

 

Without waiting for Weasley, Draco hoped in front of Hermione on the thestral, said "Malfoy Manor" and they were off. Hermione gripping him tightly around the waist as they flew. They were cutting it close time wise, thankfully, expecting delay when dealing with Potter, Draco had actually given them about an hour of wriggle room. Of which they had used more than half. It was difficult to be too upset about it now, as he flew with Hermione close to him. Charming a small, temporary shield in front of them so Hermione could hear him over the rushing wind, he was able to speak at an almost normal volume.

 

"Alright back there?"

 

"Ya, it's a little better with you on here too - makes it seem more solid."

 

"The mighty Hermione Granger - cowed by heights"

 

"Hey, everyone has some weakness!"

 

"Possibly. Do they always treat you like that?"

 

"What?"

 

"They wonder boys, they treat you like you can't take care of yourself."

 

"It's not that bad."

 

All Draco had to do was look over his shoulder eyebrow raised, and Hermione laughed.

 

"Okay, it might be that bad. It's a Gryffindor thing. Chivalry and all that. But it's not that they don't think I am capable, it's just what they were taught to do. Especially Ron. They're protectors. If Harry had his way no one would ever put themselves in danger 'because of him' as he always puts it, not just me. And Ron, well, he just thinks its what he should do. Hold open doors, pay on dates, and offer to sit next to old enemies on thestrals.

 

"And it doesn't bother you? Them trying to protect you when you're more capable than them by half?"

 

"Nope. We've been friends a long time now. I appreciate the concern. Plus, I know they don't try to protect me because they think I can't handle it, but because they think I shouldn't have to. Because none of us should have to. I think the same about them - I've just learned to accept their pigheadedness and don't say anything anymore."

 

"So the chosen one is the main protector – the hero if you will. Obviously the Weasel is his side-kick, what does that make you? The wizened old wizard, gently guiding them to and fro, always knowing more than they say?"

 

"So long as I don't need the long white beard to play the part - I'll take it. Does that make you the damsel in the distress?"

 

"I much prefer the wealthy benefactor."

 

"Ah, but you're much too pretty for that."

 

"Pretty?"

 

"Yes. Pretty. You are very pretty Draco Malfoy."

 

"Damsel it is then. But only if the wizened old wizard rescues me, I'm not terribly partial to the hero in this particular play."

 

"Ahh, he grows on you."

 

"Maybe, but I'd rather you were on me."

 

"Draco!"

 

Smiling to himself Draco released to shield and the wind covered their ears once more. Unfortunately, that left Draco to his own thoughts. He still couldn't really believe what was happening. Not three days ago his only hope had been to somehow steal more ingredients for a potion. Now he was on his way to the manor - possibly never to return again.

Possibly signing his own death warrant.

 

Possibly a lot of things.

 

But, no matter how he thought about it, it was better than the future he had previously been resigned to.

Damn those that had set him on this path, walls on either side. Regardless of how he felt about the cause or any of it, he would not allow others to continue making his decisions for him. He would not allow himself to be led like a lamb to slaughter.

 

Hopefully his decisions didn’t cause him to simply run head first into the slaughter instead.


	40. Chapter 40

Eventually they neared the Manor and Draco directed the thestrals to set down in the woods abutting the estate. The second they touched down Draco felt Hermione scrambling to get to solid the dirt beneath her feet again. The loss of her heat behind him made goose pimples rise on his flesh. Containing a shiver Draco dismounted smoothly and waited for Potter and Weasley to do the same. Well, not the same exactly as Weasley ended up on his backend with Potter trying not to stumble over him. But, desired result achieved, the two walked over to him and Hermione.

 

"Why did we stop here Draco? Where is your house?" Potter's teeth trembled from the cold as he spoke.

 

"It is through the trees up here. We can't risk us or the thestrals being seen, especially as the Order has lookouts tonight as well. We will walk to the Manor once we are invisible and wait for the rescue team to arrive."

 

"We should hurry then - we were late getting started, and we can't risk missing them…"

 

"No, we have time. They are not set to arrive for another twenty minutes."

 

"Twenty minutes? But you told me they were apparating at ten thirty, it's nearly eleven! We need to come up with a new plan, there's no way they haven’t already made it in."

 

"I told you ten, Potter, because I anticipated any plan that you were involved in would be delayed in one way or another."

 

"You lied to me Malfoy?"

 

"Yes. And it is a good thing I did, as you pointed out - it is nearly eleven - which is when they are actually set to arrive."

 

Potter looked like he was about to retort but Hermione thankfully held up a hand, stopping any reply "We need to hurry, come on."

 

"There is no way we are all fitting under this cloak…" Weasley eyed Draco as thought he was the tag along intruder to this plan and not them.

 

"No. We will not. No more than two under the cloak, we may need to move quickly, and three will only trip each other up. You can decide who to disillusioned between the three of yourselves."

 

"How do you know the disillusionment charm Malfoy?"

 

"Ha! I don't know the disillusionment charm Weasley. Hermione does." Hermione was looking down, shuffling her feet, and though it was too dark to actually see he was sure she would be blushing slightly. Draco couldn't believe that they didn't know about this. He rather liked the idea that he knew something about Hermione that they hadn't. Their baffled expressions were just a cherry on top.

 

Unfortunately, there was no time for him to relish it. "Please, hold your complaints until after we accomplish our actual goal here tonight. I believe there is a more important task to accomplish than interrogating Hermione."

 

They didn't look quite as reprimanded as Draco would have liked, but at least they were being silent for once. His heart was beating painfully, and Draco was certain if he were to unfold his arms his hands would be shaking an embarrassing amount – not from the cold, but from the anxiety he could feel in every nerve.

 

"Right, well, Hermione, you get under the cloak with Ron. If it comes down to it, I need to be free to fight."

 

Draco agreed with Potter’s plan, but for different reasons - though Hermione looked ready to argue. Did these three ever agree on anything?

 

"No, Hermione, he's right. Not that he needs to fight, but we should split that way. That way each group will have at least one person with a brain in their head. Plus, we will be able to communicate if necessary, with the rings."

 

Draco could tell she still didn't like the idea - but he knew she could see the logic in it, and she nodded. Quickly pulling out her wand, she disillusioned the two boys.

 

"Harry, grab onto Ron so we don't loose track of each other." Hermione held her own hand out for Draco to take before covering herself and Weasley with the cloak.

 

Draco led the way, he knew the woods like they were his own room, he had often played here, come here for solitude. But now they felt different - heavy - as though the trees were being pressed over them, the magnitude of what they were doing making the air thick and difficult to swallow. Hermione's hand tightened on his as an owl sounded nearby and Draco quickened his pace.

 

He stopped them once the front gate was in sight. The manor always looked intimidating - it did belong to the Malfoy's after all, and he heard an intake of breath behind him.

 

"Bloody hell." Draco heard Weasley mutter under his breath.

 

"Malfoy, you've got to be kidding…"

 

Draco couldn't tell if he should take their disbelief as an insult or compliment. Draco had always rather imagined the Manor was fitting for him. Large, imposing, dangerous.

 

Then saw one of his father's peacocks pass by the gate, pure white feathers contrasting against the ornate twisted wrought iron bars, easily reaching fifteen feet into the air, each point finishing in a serpent's head.

 

He had never appreciated quite how… flashy it all appeared.

 

"Well, at least we're not likely to miss it…"

 

"Miss it? It practically glows in the dark! Is that glitter on the walk Malfoy?"

 

"Oh, please tell me that's really a peacock."

 

"Enough." Draco kept his voice low, but his anger was clear and they immediately fell silent. "If you have finished…" he nodded down the drive to four figures in dark robs, walking quickly to the gate.

 

The four walking towards them were Lupin, Kingsley, Tonks and Dumbledore. According to the plan the Weasleys would be around somewhere, acting as lookouts.

 

It was about to begin. The three members of the Order would enter through the front gate. Snape had altered the guards to allow anyone in for a period of thirty seconds. After that they were on their own. Draco had told them of any traps that could be avoided and they had prepared the appropriate counter charms.

 

But that was it.

 

Well, not really it. Because of Snape, they knew that the Dark Lord would be gone - along with a handful of the Death Eaters, including Snape himself. The potion’s master had reported back to Dumbledore to let him know how many death eaters would be left at the manor, but Draco had no way of knowing that now. Apparently Dumbledore thought that whoever was there, the four of them could handle it.

 

Draco could only hope he was right.

 

Dumbledore had originally wanted to act in stealth but, many of the counter curses required that one's presence be known - probably to avoid just what Dumbledore had planned - sneaking in and out without detection. Thankfully Draco and the trio would be able to rely on the Order to dismantle the traps they knew about. And the traps that Draco hadn't told them about would be neutralized simply by his presence.

 

He hoped.

 

It was possible… With is father in prison, and the Dark Lord acting as head of the Manor… But no, it was Malfoy Manor. It would answer to Malfoy blood.

 

"Once we are inside, we stick to the Order.” Draco whispered into the air in front of him, trusting the others to listen. “Since you know Potter and I are there you should be able to see us enough to follow as long as we are moving. If you lose us, just keep following the Order. No mater what happens do not take off the cloak. I don't care if everyone around us is trapped and tortured. If you are found in Malfoy Manor you will be worse than dead. There will be no one to save you.  You will be the Dark Lord's plaything and you will beg for death. Whether you trust me or my intentions here - you can trust the truth of that." Draco paused here, hoping they recognized the danger they were about to walk into.

 

He had half a mind to body bind them all and leave them here, but he couldn’t see them and guarantee a direct hit, it would only cause more delay. He couldn't believe he was about to lead Hermione into this situation. His heart constricted tightly.

 

He would do anything to keep her out, but he knew she would never be left behind.

 

Shouldn’t be left behind really. She was far more competent than the other two; he simply didn't care as much about the other two being in danger. But if anything happened to her…

 

"Hermione…" He still held her hand and felt up her arm to pull her ear as close to his mouth as possible. The other two were much too close, but he couldn't walk into this without saying something.

 

Keeping his voice as low as possible he spoke directly into her ear, "I am not going to ask you to stay. You just… you have to know Hermione, if anything happened to you… I couldn't… Just… " He was at a loss for words - which simply didn't happen to him. He was a Malfoy after all. He had peacocks, pure white peacocks. People with pure white peacocks were not the type of people that struggled for words, "You gave me the chance for a future, don't make me live it without you. Be safe."

 

\---

 

The last two hours had passed in a blur. After she and Ron had found Harry under the cloak leaving the dormitory, Hermione hadn't had a second to think. Even during the thestral flight she had been much too preoccupied by the terror that comes with flight on an invisible animal to think much further than her own legs around the deceptively solid creature beneath her.

 

She had not had time to consider that they were actually sneaking into a building crawling with death eaters, a place Voldemort could easily return to, a place where the cruciatus curse was regularly practiced. She had known it, but she hadn't really considered it.

 

At Draco's uncharacteristic words, a frantic whisper in her ear, it all came crashing down. If she had not been so close between Draco and Ron her knees may have given out.

 

This was even more foolish than what they usually did. Well, maybe not more foolish but, for some reason it seemed more real. They weren't a Hogwarts or the Ministry where there were fully trained witches and wizards nearby (or expected to be at least). The only other people here either didn't know of their presence or would happily kill them on sight.

 

Hermione leaned forward slightly, pressing her cheek against Draco's "Just make sure you get a chance to live it."

 

He nodded tersely, embarrassed at his previous words, or hers, and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear this time. "Potter, grab my cloak. Weasley, Hermione; follow us, stay hidden. Potter, don’t do anything stupid. If you try to play the hero I will stun you myself. That goes for all of you. Now lets go."

 

The four slowly moved towards the small group of adults gathered in front of the gate. Hermione could just make out a faint shimmer in the air indicating where Draco and Harry were, but if she hadn't known where to look she would have had no idea. There was no way they would be able to keep track of them the whole time. She didn't dare take her eyes off of the shimmering in front of her and risk losing them so soon, so she reached over sightlessly to lace her arm through Ron's. His close presence reassured her, steadied her rapid heartbeat, and she heard him take a deep breath in response to her touch, trying to clam himself as well.

 

"… soon enough. Snape said about eight, maybe we should reconsider…"

 

"No, the most powerful will have gone with him. It will be the lower level Death Eaters that are left. The Manor has protection enough on its own, and as for Narcissa, well, she can't need much more than a house elf to keep her here if Snape's reports aren't exaggerated."

 

"I fear Snape is not often one for exaggeration. However, there is always hope." The voice of the man speaking obviously belonged to Dumbledore, and the other two just as obviously Lupin and Kingsley. All four of them wore identical black robes, blending into the shadows, hiding their features, but Hermione saw Dumbledore raise a hand, forestalling any more conversation. "Ten seconds. Let us not dally."

 

The four wizards turned to face the gate, the shimmer of Draco and Harry immediately slipped behind them and Hermione and Ron stepped silently into place in the back. Like a morbid parade, walking into a house of the damned, various shades of disguised, as though hiding from death itself.

 

Ten seconds later, the Order members strode confidently and quickly forward, the four students at their back. Hermione, eager not to be left behind had bumped into Harry, Ron grabbing her arm quickly to keep her upright and, thankfully, they managed to avoid making any sound. Hermione redoubled her attempts to keep the disillusioned boys in her vision.

 

The dark obscured most of the yard around them as the walked up the long drive, but it was clearly well manicured, and Hermione saw a few more of the white peacocks. Somehow even the ridiculous birds put her on edge.

 

To have so many people so close together not making a sound was unnerving. All steps were soft, breath slow and deep; none of the normal sounds that usually exist around people seemed to be there. She had never even noticed these sounds before but their absence twisted her already on-edge nerves. The tension in her body seemed to be echoed all around her. Ron's arm was stiff next to hers she could feel goose bumps raising the hair on her own arms. The walk to the entry way seemed too long, too slow. She had to fight against her impulse to run, to yell, to do anything to break the gathering pressure of the coming storm. Meet it head on rather than sneak slowly into its center.

 

Eventually they reached the front door and Dumbledore (the tallest and easiest to distinguish of the cloaked figures) silently pulled his wand, gently setting it directly against the serpent knocker adorning the center of the massive wooden doors. Dumbledore held the wand there much longer than it seemed like he should need to and Hermione saw the figure to his left – Kingsley judging by the height - start to move forward as though to help, but the headmaster held up his free hand halting the movement.

 

As Dumbledore held his arm, Hermione noticed what seemed like tremors coursing through it. Whether she hadn't noticed before or it had simply gotten worse, it seemed now as though Dumbledore’s whole body was… not shaking, almost… waving. Like electricity going through it in slow motion. The place where his wand touched the door began to smoke slightly before glowing yellow. Dumbledore began waving worse, his whole body moving, like a flag in a storm.

 

Hermione was forcefully reminded of a marionette on a string - being manipulated by the man behind the curtain - but otherwise lifeless, out of control. The serpent's head had turned a glowing hot blue, and it's tongue suddenly flicked out. Dumbledore’s body froze; stiff and straight, and he quickly pulled his wand back and punched forward again in one smooth motion. The second the wand tip douched the serpent's head once more it melted, flowing down the wood grains in the door, slowly disappearing.

 

Lupin and Kingsley immediately stepped forward, putting their arms under Dumbledore’s to support him. Tonks – the shortest, almost as obvious as Dumbledore – stepped to the side, wand out, providing cover.

 

"Albus -" Kingsley's deep voice rumbled in the silence, but before he could continue Dumbledore straightened his shoulders, gently shrugging off the supporting hands.

 

"We continue." Hermione was shocked at Dumbledore's voice. She had expected it to shake like his body had been after what she had just seen, but it was calm and steady as ever. She looked over at Ron to see his face white and eyes wide.

 

With a small wave of Dumbledore’s wand the giant wooden door in front of them slowly swung open and they were greeted by a wide bright marbled entry way. Hermione looked up in awe at the ceiling - easily three stories tall, her gaze following the golden chandelier - somehow giving off light to every corner, casting no shadows. This was made even more impressive considering the entryway itself was probably as large as the Burrow's entire ground floor.

 

She felt Ron nudge her lightly and turned to see him mouth "bloody hell" to her under the cloak, and she could only nod in agreement.

 

The sudden light had made the four in front of them pause momentarily, but after a quick look around they all strode forward towards the staircase and Hermione and Ron made to follow - making sure to leave space for Draco and Harry in between - if that is where they still were. Every once in awhile Hermione thought she caught sight of a shimmer, but it was hard to tell. They would jut have to stick to the Order, and hope the other two did the same.

 

Their footsteps echoed as they walked across the marbled floor and made their way up the stairs – easily wide enough for all of them to walk side by side if they had wanted.

 

Surely someone was here to guard the door - someone had to know they were there. Right? She was completely unnerved by the lack of attention they seemed to be drawing.

 

Someone should be here.

 

Someone should be trying to stop them.

 

Surely Voldemort wouldn't entrust the safety of the place to a few charms and curses?

 

As they continued forward they didn't even seem to be running into those though. They walked down one hallway after another and Hermione was amazed at the opulence – though she probably shouldn’t have been.

 

But this was not a house. It was a museum.

 

She tried to picture Draco growing up here - any child even being here - and failed. This was not a happy place. It was a gorgeous place, fashionable and surprisingly modern - but it was cold. Hermione did not see any pictures of the family - unless you counted the portraits of sullen angry looking old men they passed every so often.

 

Finally, after they had walked so many different hallways Hermione was quite sure she would never be able to find her way out again, they stopped at what appeared to be a dead end - drawing up to the austere grey wall Dumbledore again put the tip of his wand gently against it, this time muttering lightly under his breath.

 

The wall dropped straight down almost immediately as though the floor beneath it had simply vanished, and Hermione was able to glimpse a much warmer hallway, with lush red carpet, before Ron pulled her unceremoniously down to the floor - a burst of red light soaring right over where they had been standing.

 

There was a heartbeat, just a moment, and then everything was chaos.


	41. Chapter 41

Hermione crawled as quickly as she could with Ron to the far wall. At least six Death Eaters had been waiting at the entrance Dumbledore had created. Lupin and Dumbledore had also somehow managed to avoid the first volley of spells, but Kingsley lay on the floor between them, and Tonks had a gash down her shoulder that seemed to have frozen her arm in place. Hermione did not know what either of them had been hit with, but Kingsley did not seem to be moving, and Tonks was little better off – without her wand arm.

 

Hermione and Ron stood up carefully, pressing themselves against the wall. The once wide hallway now seemed much to tight.

 

There were flashes of light everywhere, Hermione couldn't keep track. The wall less than a foot to their right exploded and she ducked with Ron as they were showered in debris. She wanted to help, but the flashes from curses were coming so quickly she could hardly see straight. She heard an unfamiliar voice shout "Confringo" and a statute that had been against the wall exploded into flames, she tried to duck again as pieces of marble flew towards them, but stumbled against Ron.

 

"We've got to do something!" Hermione tried to whisper, but it probably wouldn't have mattered if she had shouted.

 

"What? I can't see two feet in front of us. What are we going to do?"

 

"We need to find the one that keeps throwing the confringo - they're causing the most damage, come on we've got to get closer."

 

Ron shook his head at her but took her hand and slowly stood up again. He edged them along the wall a couple of feet before pausing. Things were a little better here, they were in between the two groups and most of the spells went flying past.

 

"This is good Ron, wait here." 

 

Hermione tried to sort things out. Dumbledore and Lupin where still standing, but she could see blood dripping down Lupin's hand, and Dumbledore's face was ashen. The spell that had hit Tonks seemed to be travelling, and now they could see her fighting against her own legs, seemingly locked in place. She was a standing target, but nothing seemed to be hitting her, and Hermione realized that one of the boys probably had a shield charm on her. Hopefully in the confusion it wouldn’t be noticed.

 

The two wizards were holding their own, but probably not for much longer. They had taken down two of the death eaters, but there were still four in front of them, seemingly unharmed.

 

"Confingo!"

 

Hermione turned her head to the voice, it was the tall one, standing to the side. Hermione adjusted the cloak so that just the tip of her wand was pointing out - but stopped. There were no spells coming from where she stood. If she cast anything it was draw everyone's attention, her and Ron would immediately be targeted.

 

Damn.

 

She tried to think quickly, but the shouts surrounding them were too distracting.

 

“Crucio!”

 

Hermione heard a yelp and, turning quickly, saw Lupin's head jerk back, before he collapsed to the floor in pain. The death eater closest to Hermione and Ron noticed as well and stepped forward to take advantage. The death eater moved quickly, eyes locked on Lupin and Hermione suddenly remembered a spell that caused no flash, would not give them away.

 

Looking around on the ground Hermione quickly found a large chunk of wall on the death eater's side of the battle.

 

Sticking her wand out just enough to cast Hermione quickly whispered "Wingardium Leviosa!" lifting the piece of wall as little as possible she made it move swiftly forward and right in front of the advancing death eater.

 

Unfortunately Hermione's timing was not quite right, the death eater didn't trip like she had intended.

 

“Hermione, now is not the time to play nice – don’t bother with aim, just make him stop!”

 

Ron was right, cursing under her breath Hermione made the rock shoot forward, sending it right into the death eater’s shin. This time it worked, the death eater was not debilitated by any means, but he had stopped his advance Hermione saw a rip in his pants, and blood spilling through it.

 

Dumbledore shot a curse at the injured death eater as he paused, and he stayed down.

 

Three death eaters were left. Hermione was just about to send another rock, but before she could think of anything else, almost immediately across from Hermione and Ron a bolt of green appeared and suddenly there was a wall of smoke, thick and white.

Hermione and Ron were right in the middle of it, and quickly stumbled to the side. It didn't seem poisonous, but Hermione pushed Ron further away just in case. Dumbledore and Lupin seemed as confused as she was. They wearily moved forward, keeping their wands out. She didn't know if a spell would go through the smoke in front of them, but even if it could they would be shooting blind.

 

Hermione heard sudden noise on the other side of the wall but it was muffled, as though it were an actual wall. Explosions sounded, one, then another, then a shout, and what sounded like a body hitting the floor. Another bang, and another body hitting the ground. Hermione's blood went cold as she looked for a shimmer that would indicate Draco or Harry's presence, she couldn't see anything, but with all the smoke and the dust - she wouldn't be able to see them anyway, right?

 

The noises continued for only a moment longer, then, before Dumbledore and Lupin could reach the smoke wall it suddenly began to dissipate, like a breeze was blowing it away. At first Hermione thought the death eaters had run, the hallway in front of them seemed empty, but then she saw them all laying on the floor, stunned - or something worse.

 

She couldn't tell.

 

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and turned to give Ron a small smile. It had been Harry and Draco.

 

Hopefully both of them, but at least one of them.

 

How herself and Ron had managed to remain under the cloak the entire time, she had no clue, years of practice had taught them to keep their arms linked, and the cloak tight, but with all the spells and debris flying it probably wouldn't have made too much of a difference anyway.

 

Dumbledore strode immediately over to Kingsley and leaned down examining him. While Lupin went to Tonks.

 

"He is alive, but there is nothing I can do to help him while we are here. Give him the portkey, Pomfrey will know what to do when he shows up. Bring Tonks as well, I cannot undo that spell here, she will need a potion."

 

Tonks appeared like she wanted to argue, but, realizing the futility only nodded – her head barely mobile now. Lupin dug in his cloak pocket, pulling out a crinkled up soda can, and placed it lightly into Kingsley's grasp. He looked almost like he was sleeping - until Hermione noticed a small trail of blood coming out of his ear and pooling on the ground below him.

 

Lupin lifted Tonk’s stiff body up and set her gently next to Kingsley.

 

A few seconds later and they were gone, the dark red stain on the wood the only trace that they had been there. Lupin went to each of the downed death eaters, checking for a pulse before swiftly tying them all together and levitating them to a corner.

 

"Well, I'd say our arrival has been announced. That was a portion of the guard - but not all of it. whatever that smoke screen was, or where it came from – may not always remain such a benefit to us either. As our dear Alastor would say - remain vigilant. And " And with that Dumbledore turned and swiftly headed down the now open hallway.

 

\---

 

Remain vigilant? Like they were going to have a bloody tea party here in the Manor?  Merlin. Draco's nerves were practically itching. Did they really have to be reminded that they were in danger? Draco almost wished he were visible just so the old man could have see him when he rolled his eyes - it had probably been one of his best.

 

Draco had tried to stay as far back as possible once the spells started flying, but of course, with be-a-hero-Harry grasping his cloak he had been pulled almost into the center of the damned thing. If he hadn't been so afraid to move in the way of a misdirected spell he would have pummeled the brat off of him.

Fortunately they had ended up in a comparatively safe position. Unfortunately, it had made it possible for Draco to identify two of the death eaters.

 

McNair and Goyle.

 

His heart had pounded to join them. He had no loyalty to the old headmaster or the werewolf, let alone the cousin he had never met.

 

But those two…

 

He had memories of them scattered across his entire life.

 

He had grown up with the Goyle's, slept at their house, ate at their table.

McNair had given him his first sip of whiskey when his father hadn't been looking, had never lowered his voice when telling the bawdy inappropriate jokes, and his laugh would echo around the room - warming the place like a second hearth.

 

These were his people. He was on the wrong side.

 

Or maybe they were.

 

But the idea of shooting spells at them had made his blood run cold.

 

He had known what he was doing, what he was turning his back on. But… He hadn't really known. Hadn't really understood the reality of it apparently.

 

As he had stood there, watching the battle he had felt the weight drop back down on top of him.

 

His life. Everyone he knew. Everyone he respected and looked up to.

 

His own father.

 

He was turning his back on it.

 

He felt the loss as if they had died.

 

No. As if they had died and he had simply let it happen.

 

Everything he knew would be gone in a matter of minutes and there was nothing he could do about it now.

 

He had made his choice.

 

He hadn't expected the regret.

 

Even knowing the Dark Lord was insane, even knowing what Hermione had shown him...

 

He was a blood traitor now. Lower than a house elf. Lower than a crup.

 

And his mother would never forgive him.

 

He was sure of that now. He wasn't just taking this away from himself - but also his mother. And she would have absolutely no say in the matter.

 

Draco's thoughts had raced faster than the spells had shot out of the wands. Could he end it? Could he run? Make them all forget? The memory spells Draco considered had dropped from his mind when he saw the tip of a wand on the other side of the hall - almost directly across from where he was standing.

 

Granger.

 

And there was a small spark. Nothing compared to the dark blanket of doubt and dread that was blinding him - but a spark.

 

A blink of - something - hope?

No. He was not a hopeful person. But there was something there - just a thought that maybe  - he wasn't alone. Not completely.

 

He looked in the direction of the wand again and saw her using it to throw a stone at one of the death eaters he did not recognize. And he had almost laughed. Amidst the crucios and explosions surrounding them Hermione had basically just tripped a Death Eater.

 

A year ago he would have thought it was pathetic.

 

But it had done exactly has she had intended - distracted the Death Eater.

 

And now, now he thought it was just so completely Hermione.

 

Not blinded and mindless of the situation. Intelligent, and kind and thoughtful - indented to cause the largest effect with the least damage.

 

Granger was much too good for him.

 

He would have been sending crucios right back if he could decide what side to aim at.

 

And he couldn't honestly say his conscience saw anything wrong with that.

 

What a bloody fucking mess. His head had been in a million pieces and he was in the middle of a mini war zone.

 

So he decided to end it.

 

They needed to get to his mother and get out before he thought too much about this.

 

The wall of smoke had been effective, as had his and Harry's combined stupefies. It’s amazing how much of an edge being invisible can give you.

 

And now they were walking directly towards his mother's room, and he felt like he was walking the plank, about to jump into the abyss.

 

He was sure the hallway had not been this long before.

 

But, when they reached the door he was just as sure that time had jumped ahead - they couldn't be there already.

 

He wanted to shrink back, let the others handle it - exactly what he always goaded Harry for doing. He couldn't do it though. Not because he didn't want to - he would never have tried to pretend the brazen - stupid - Gryffindor courage, but because this was the whole reason he was here. His mother.

 

The threshold of a Malfoy Manor bedroom could not be breached unless accompanied by a Malfoy. This was an ancient magic - and probably one of the reasons the Manor had stayed in the family for so long. Not even marriage allowed access - his own mother hadn't been able to enter the bedroom she shared with his father on her own until after she had given birth to Draco.

 

Many of his ancestors apparently had tried to break the spell - but they had all been driven mad – whether by the spell itself or the impossibility of finding a solution no one knew, and the desire to work on the problem dwindled until it was simply accepted.

 

Dumbledore walked slowly forward wand out, mumbling under his breath quietly, before reaching his blackened hand to the door. Quickly stepping forward, trying not to think about what was on the other side, Draco closed his eyes both wanting and not wanting his blood to grant them access.

 

It was possible, slim, but possible, that the Dark Lord had altered the spell somehow.  Images flashed through his mind of the gruesome death of a death eater that had decided his father had been exaggerating about the effects of the spell. Sent immediately to the dungeons bellow, tortured. Draco had been sent down the next day to watch the end.

 

The scream choking was out of a violently purple face, blood vessels popping, blood beginning to spill from his eyes as it became to much...

 

Draco held his breath.

 

One. Two. Three.

 

He counted before he finally heard the almost silent rush of the door swinging open. He still hadn't opened his eyes, as though if he didn't see his mother as she currently was he could imagine her there, sitting serenely in her chair by the fire, with a cup of tea and a book before going to sleep for the night.

 

He loved that image of his mother. Occasionally she would have had her hair tied up or her nightclothes on. She would look almost relaxed, almost like she wasn't a Malfoy, almost like she could be allowed to be human.

 

And when he was a child Draco had often curled up by the fire, comforted simply by the relaxed atmosphere he thought only a mother could really bring. And that is really the only time she had been a mother - in that sense at least.

 

When he was eight his father had come home early, walked in on him sitting so improperly on the floor – like a common muggle - and that was the last time he had been allowed in this room.

 

Draco felt Harry give a sharp tug on his cloak and stumbled to the side right as Lupin walked through where he had been, following Dumbledore into the room. His eyes were open now but he could only catch glances into the room, stuck behind the two wizards who had stopped abruptly in the doorway.

 

"It is hardly polite to stare. And, I won't even mention barging into a lady's room without permission."

Draco did not recognize the voice that spoke from the room, and he tried to see between the men, standing on his toes - where was his mother? Unable to speak for herself? Gone? Dead? The hair on Draco's arms stood on end as he tried to see over the tall wizards’ shoulders.

 

"I typically welcome guests to my home with a cup of tea - but as you are neither welcome, nor guests, I will follow your lead and forgo the formalities."

 

Her house? There was something familiar tickling the back of his mind but Draco couldn't place it.

It had to be a relative? But all that he could think of was his grandmother. Already ancient when he was born she had a foot in the grave as long as he had known her. She had died when he was very young, but he had clear memory of her soft shaky voice, as though she was as out of control of her own voice as she had been out of control of her mind at the end. He had pitied her, and been slightly afraid of her irrational and unpredictable behavior. But she had died. Years before.

 

Finally Dumbledore began to walk forward into the room and Draco was able to see inside. The room looked just as he remembered and momentary warmth stole into his heart. And there, sitting in that chair was…

It was his grandmother…? No, it couldn't be.

 

The woman in his mother’s chair was small and frail. Diminished as though made of nothing but smoke and force of will. Her hair falling untidily around her face but, he recognized the robes. The rings on her hand.

 

Draco was afraid to move – it seemed almost as though the disturbance in the air would simply make her disappear.

 

He didn’t realize he had stopped breathing until, pulled aside roughly once more by Harry, he let out a small gasp. Hopefully, he thought, one covered by the sound of Lupin’s entrance further into the room.

 

"So, what are you doing in my home?" His mother's voice was so soft he could barely hear it, shaky, but angry nonetheless. There was still some authority behind it, even if it was imagined.

 

His mother.

 

How could it be?

 

But, there was no doubt about it now, it was his mother. Only not.

 

More like a shadow of her, like she had been stolen back from the graveyard at the last minute. Her smooth pale skin was marred with slices, bruises, purple by her eyes, yellow at her temple, red near her ears.

 

She was a kaleidoscope of the colors of pain.

 

She sat straight backed, trembling hands resting serenely on the arms of her chair. The trembling in them clear even from the doorway where Draco still stood, and Draco felt his arms begin to mirror it. He was trembling, and as it travelled down to his legs he slowly felt himself crumple soundlessly to the soft floor.

 

"We have come, Narcissa, to remove you from your… home." Dumbledore looked mildly around the room as though he really was just visiting for tea. But when he turned to look behind him Draco could see a spark of danger in his eyes that he had never seen before, would never have expected from the old man. "That is, if you would like to leave."

 

"A rescue mission? Forgive me, but it seems rather unlikely that the leader of the Order of the Phoenix would come to the living place of the Dark Lord - with only his wolf for protection - to save a loyal follower of the Dark Lord."

 

"By rescuing one loyal follower, I may save another. Though I am surprised Narcissa. Surely you do not wish to stay here?"

 

"Of course I wish to stay here! This is my home. The Dark Lord will soon overcome your feeble rebellion, and the Malfoys will be praised among his most loyal."

 

"You mean to stay? Stay and allow yourself to tortured when we offer you a path to safety?"

 

"What do you know about safety?!" her voice cracked as she addressed Lupin, and it only added to the somewhat crazed image she was presenting. "Walking blindly hand in hand with an enemy is safety? If I cannot feel safe in my own home I cannot feel safe anywhere.” She paused here, gathering her breath, but soon continued – as if she couldn’t stop herself. “Here I am punished when I fail, so I will no longer fail, I will no longer attempt to defy his will by suppressing his punishments. I will no longer send owls to my son. I will be devoted to the Dark Lord with all of me. His will is my own."

 

"Contacting your own son is a weakness Narcissa?" Draco could have sworn he saw a flicker in her eyes at Dumbledore's words, but it was probably just wishful thinking. The expression he saw clear on her face now was a familiar one - he had seen it on his father, and countless other.

 

Devotion.

 

Bordering - he now saw so clearly, how had he not seen it before? - on obsession.

 

"It is a distraction. And the Dark Lord does not have time for distractions. Draco is a Malfoy, a loyal follower. He has taken the mark, as you well know - so young and so honored already. He will not begrudge me a few childish letters."

 

Every breath that Draco took felt like a chore. What was happening? This was not the mother he knew. Not the mother he remembered. Two months - it had only been two months, what had they done to her? He knew Dumbledore would never take someone against their will. He couldn’t let them leave her here though...

 

He had to do something.

 

Standing slowly Draco took out his wand and whispered 'finite' and the disilllusionment charm dropped off of him.

 

His mother barely reacted, her movements so slow, but a smile formed on her thin lips when she saw him. Lupin jumped, clutching his wand, but Dumbledore merely nodded at him - as though he had been aware of his presence the whole time.

Draco didn't care, it didn't matter. He had to get his mother to leave.

 

"Draco dear, somehow I knew you would be here. Call the Dark Lord son, bring him here with your mark. We can lead him straight to Dumbledore. You know how much this would mean for you. You could take your place beside your father."

 

"Mother…" Draco tried to ignore both her words and the hungry thirst that was now in her eyes. "Mother, you need to leave. Go with them. They can keep you --"

 

"Safe? Safe!" She was yelling now, her voice having found her again, and she stood shakily up from the chair by the crackling fire. "Is safety all you can think of to temp me with?  The Dark Lord keeps us safe! There are more important things than safe! We are building a society! What is the _safety_ of one witch compared to that? What about the power afforded those at his side? That is all safety is - power in your hands. I have put myself in the Dark Lord's hands, and so safety is in mine!" Draco noticed the shake in her hand as she pointed his finger at him.

 

"Your father always thought you were weak. Don't prove him right, Draco. Don't quit the game right when it is just beginning. To achieve greatness you must be great Draco. Be great. Be strong. Don't sway from your convictions when it gets difficult! Cling to them! Follow what you have been taught, follow what you know."

 

But all of the doubt Draco had felt early had seemed to vanish.

 

The darkness he felt in his heart no longer hid his path forward, though it was still smothering him. His blood thundered to his ears, each beat of his heart an eternity, his tongue slow as though controlled by puppet strings. "Mother…" He took a step towards her, but she stepped back, her eyes in slits.

 

"You've turned Draco?" the faux calm of the question cut like a knife. "I guess your father was right from the beginning. I had always hopped… No matter." She turned as she sat back down in her chair and Draco longed to run to her, sit at her feet, feel her fingers card through his hair. But then she turned, and no matter how hard he looked Draco could not find a trace of that women left in her face. "Leave. Now. I will not turn my son into the Dark Lord.

 

“But Draco. Once you leave this room, you are no longer my son. So run fast." Her voice was flat, and so so calm. And her face was a mask.

 

And it was all Draco could do not to sprint as he turned from her, desperate to be out of her presence, and walked directly from the room without a second glance.


	42. Chapter 42

Hermione had watched the scene unfold before her almost like a movie. It was hard for her to comprehend how this could be real. How someone so obviously hurt and abused could stay - willingly - happily even.

 

It didn't make sense to her.

 

But, the pain she had seen in Draco's face  - that had been all too real.

 

When she saw him run from the room she had grabbed Ron's hand and followed without thought. Hermione needed to be with him, someone had to be with him. Though she was sure he wouldn't want it.

 

"Draco!" She whispered as loudly as she dared as they moved further away from the others. "Draco stop!" but he either didn't hear or didn't respond.

 

She followed Draco around a corner and down another hallway, Ron struggling to keep up at her side, the invisibility cloak trailing behind them in her haste.

 

“Hermione, hang on!” Harry had obviously followed them from the room as well, but she was not about to stop. Draco had just turned a corner, and she did not want to loose him.

 

The hallway they turned to was short, with only one door at the end, standing slightly ajar.

 

Ron tugged on her hand, pulling her to a walk as they approached the room and she felt Harry brush against her other side. Her breathing slowed and she felt her heartbeat climbing as they moved closer. She was forcibly reminded of the fact of where they were by the oppressive silence.

 

Hermione shuddered at her momentary lapse of judgment and quickly pulled out her wand, nudging Ron to do the same. Barely daring to breath she reached the room at the end of the hall. Peaking through the crack it looked like another bedroom. Slowly she reached her free hand forward and gently nudged the door open further.

 

“Malfoy?” Harry whispered next to her. But there was no response. “Malfoy!” This time louder, surely if he were in the room he could hear them. Hermione looked to Ron who only looked at her and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Look” Harry whispered again, this time to his two friends. “We know he went this way, let’s just go in and get him. I want to get out of here.”

 

Ron seemed to agree and Hermione watched almost as if it were in slow motion as Ron walked forward, sure that Harry was doing the same, Hermione pulled along in their wake as she tried to hold them back.

 

Hermione’s “wait-!“ was barely out of her mouth as she was pulled through the doorway of Draco Malfoy’s bedroom.

 

And all of a sudden everything went dark.

 

Not like someone turned off the lights dark, like she no longer had eyes in her head - dark. She instinctually brought her hands to her face, relieved to find her eyes still in place.

 

“What –“ Ron started to say next to her, but she quickly shushed him.

 

“Be quiet Ron! Do you still have your wand?” She barely breathed the words, but that was one of the benefits of the confines of the invisibility cloak, you were so close almost any sound could be heard.

 

“Yes” Ron whispered back, “What happened, where’s Harry?”

 

“I’m right here Ron.” Harry’s voice came from immediately to her right and Hermione had to put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from yelling out, “What’s going on?”

 

“Draco told us the bedrooms were cursed remember!? That was the whole reason he came. You can’t go into one without its owner escorting you! I don’t know where we are, but it can’t be anywhere good...” No matter how she tried Hermione’s eyes were not adjusting to the dark. She heard Ron mutter ‘fuck’ under his breath next to her.

 

“Look, let’s try to find a door or something. Keep one hand on me, and one on your wands, I’ll walk forward – we’ve got to hit something eventually right?”

 

Hermione tried to cast a lumos. She hadn’t thought that it would work, that seemed too easy, but she had to try. Something about this place seemed…oppressive. More than just the dark. Hermione was pretty sure no magic would work here at all. She told Harry and Ron and waited as they both attempted their own lumos, neither of which produced any light.

 

Neither of the boys said anything else but she felt a reassuring hand on either one of her shoulders and she slowly began taking steps forward, attempting to feel her way.

 

The ground seemed solid and smooth, which Hermione supposed was good, but it echoed like concrete, and that combined with the chill permeating the air made Hermione think of a dungeon. A thought she would much rather not have at the moment.

 

Draco had not gone into detail about what happened when someone tried to enter a bedroom without permission, but if the Malfoys in general were anything to go by, this was going to be really bad.

 

Hermione hadn’t gone more than ten paces when her shuffling feet knocked against something. She heard a sharp gasp come from the ground and Hermione fell backwards into Harry and Ron in her haste to move away. It was a wonder they didn’t all end up on the ground, but somehow the boys helped her maintain her balance.

 

“What is it?” Ron’s voice seemed like a shotgun to Hermione’s ears but of course, he didn’t know why she had jumped back, didn’t realize there was someone or something else in here with them.

 

“Weasel?”

 

“Draco!?”

 

“You fucking idiots!”

 

“Hey, watch it!”

 

“Oh God, Potter too? You _all_ tried to follow me into my bedroom? Really? Were you under the impression we snuck along on this mission for fun? Forget the deadly curse I told you about? What kind of empty-headed, mindless, shite for brains –“

 

“Draco!” Hermione whispered, even though Draco had basically been yelling.

 

“You don’t need to whisper Hermione. There isn’t anyone down here – and if they are it is because they are waiting for us.”

 

“Waiting for us? Already? And why are you down here, that was your room…?” None of this was making any sense and Hermione was finding it almost as disconcerting as the oppressive darkness surrounding them.

 

“It was a trap, Hermione. Malfoy led us into a trap just like we knew he would! We never should have trusted the –“

 

“Yes, Weasel,” Draco cut across Ron’s words, his voice sharp and biting “I set a trap for you, that is why _I_ am currently locked in the dungeon with the witless wonder and his side kick. Just for added fun.”

 

“But Draco, why _are_ you here?” Hermione asked before Ron or Harry could retort. “You were able to get into your mother’s room, but not your own?”

 

“It would appear the Dark Lord found a way to… alter the curse. Or at least change who it responds to. Search me if I know – no one had ever been able to do it before, and plenty have tried. But, I guess he is the Dark Lord for a reason.”

 

Again, forestalling a retort from her friends Hermione spoke “So it was a trap. Just… a trap for you.”

 

“So it would seem.” Draco’s voice sounded hollow, empty.

 

“Snape! Snape set you up, he told Voldemort about our plan!” There was silence for a few seconds after Ron’s proclamation, but eventually Draco responded – though it sounded as though he considered the idea.

 

“No, it was not Snape. He does nothing to assist the Dark Lord if he can help it.”

 

“How are you so sure?”

 

Hermione probably would have felt the same skepticism as her friends a few days ago, but she was remembered Draco’s reaction to their occlumency session and couldn’t help but believe whatever his reason for turning on Voldemort, Snape was sincere.

 

“I just know.”

 

“Draco, if it wasn’t Snape… There is only one other person who knew about the potion, who could have made him question your devotion…”

 

“Who –“

 

“My mother, Potter. Did you not hear her? She is loyal only to the Dark Lord. If she was punished for having the potion, surely the Dark Lord is aware of how she came to possess it.”

 

“But Malfoy, you really think –“

 

“As much as I enjoy discussing this, now is really not the time. If you have forgotten, we are currently trapped in my dungeon, about to be tortured until we die. So. Lets try to focus, shall we?”

 

“Tortured?”

 

“Draco, do you know what happens next?”

 

“I… yes.”

 

“And?”

 

“And we should focus on getting out of here.”

 

Everyone was silent then, each of them thinking the same thing, but no one wanting to be the one to say it.

 

“Is there a way out?” Hermione cringed at the shake that came through her voice, but she couldn’t help it, she was honest to god terrified. She felt like she had at the ministry last spring, but this time there was less action, more time to think about the danger, and that made it so much worse.

 

The silence went on for too long.

 

“Look, let’s just start walking, we will hit a wall eventually, we can figure it out from there.” Harry voice sounded sure, but Hermione knew he was as nervous as the rest of them.

 

“Right, let’s go.”

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean ’No’ Malfoy?”

 

“I mean _no_ , you won’t hit a wall eventually.”

 

“Malfoy, if you know something spit it out, I’m not exactly in the mood for riddles here.”

 

Draco sighed, but answered, “The cell we’re in right now is no bigger than ten feet by ten feet. If that. You won’t hit the walls because any time a person gets near them they reorient.”

 

“So the room is moving with us when we walk?”  


“No weasel it –“

 

“So, like how whenever muggles start to head to Hogwarts or something they just get turned around, end up heading the opposite direction.”

 

“No Potter. If you would actually allow me to finish a sentence before spouting off another inane idea?” Hermione could just picture Malfoy slipping into professor mode. It calmed her nerves a little, the familiarity of it. “Good. Now, the walls are spelled with a kind of, external apparition charm. What spell exactly no one knows anymore, it has fallen out of use, but has remained on the Manor like many old spells –“

 

“Old evil spells” Ron muttered under his breath.

 

“Quite. It works by transporting anyone that comes within a certain distance back five or so feet, without giving any indication that the individual has been transported.”

 

“But like Ron said, this house is full of evil spells – what’s so evil about being transported back a few feet?”

 

“It’s the dark.” Hermione said as the realization dawned on her. “We could have walk in here forever, never knowing we weren’t actually moving. It would make you go crazy. It’s to mess with your head, isn’t it?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“That is so… Malfoy.”

 

“I will take that as a compliment.”

 

“You shouldn’t”

 

“It is ingenious. Anyone can physically torture – mental torture takes thought and planning, it is much more subtle, and in the end – much more effective.”

 

“You’re telling me that’s all the place does? Drives you crazy by making you think you’re walking forever?”

 

“Until the room senses your mental faculties start to break, once you actually start to go crazy the light comes on and the door opens.”

 

“You can just leave?”

 

“Oh no – that’s where the physical torture begins…”

 

“This is so ridiculously complex Draco.”

 

“It’s like a cat playing with its food before eating it.”

 

“Ha, not a cat Ron, a lion.” Hermione wished she could see Draco’s face, sure he would be frowning, rolling his eyes.

 

“Hermione, no matter what you think of Malfoy – he is no Gryffindor.”

 

“Of course not Harry, that’s not what I meant.”

 

“But you-“

 

“Draco, have you actually seen the spell work, the transport?”

 

“No, I’ve just heard about its effects…”

 

“But we can’t feel it right? We don’t know… what if only one of us moved past the others? Then would I move from in front of you to behind you?”

 

“I don’t know Hermione –“

 

But she had already started moving forward, more quickly than she normally would in the dark, but if they really were in such a small cell there didn’t seem to be anything there to trip her up. She had started moving away from the boys, their voices behind her. And Hermione heard their voices continue as she moved forward until suddenly they were in front of her, further away.

 

“It worked!”

 

She heard feet shuffle as they turned towards her, walking now in the opposite direction.

 

“So what does that tell us Hermione?” Asked Ron sounding hopeful.

 

“Well… Not much… Yet.”

 

There had to be something, some way to break out. There was a transportation spell here after all, if there was just some way to modify it.

 

“Is there no way to get magic to work in here? Can you, since you’re a Malfoy?”

 

“It would seem me being a Malfoy doesn’t count for much anymore, but no, not even Malfoys can use magic inside the cell.”

 

“Hmmm” Hermione knew she could figure this out. There had to be something. She felt like she did after hearing a new riddle. She didn’t know the answer yet, but she knew there was one. And she knew she could figure it out.

 

\---

 

Draco felt like sand. Not shattered, like broken glass, no… That left too many piece, you were still too identifiable, too whole.

 

Sand was made of the same stuff as glass – that’s what one of Hermione’s books had said anyways – but it was so worn, so destroyed, It was like glass shattered over and over and over until it became something completely different, completely unrecognizable.

 

It was true; he had come on this ridiculous farce of a mission without really knowing what would come of it, where he would end up.

 

He had known he could die.

 

That would have been better.

 

Quicker, cleaner.

 

Less Painful.

 

After all he had done this year… It had all been for her. He hadn’t realized it at first, but his mother was the driving force being all of his decisions. His motivation to take the task the Dark Lord offered, and his motivation to complete it. Creating the potion. Working on the cabinets.

 

All those sleepless nights.

 

Hell, when he thought back Draco realized he hadn’t slept more than once or twice in the last week.

 

And now he was trapped in his own family’s cell.

 

Not just trapped in the cell, but trapped with a bunch of Gryffindors.

 

Draco’s heart had momentarily soared when he heard Hermione’s voice, his hope had grown as she had conducted test after test on the room and the spell incasing it, and then fell once more as none of them worked.

 

Although part of the point of the dark, sameness of the room was to make time seem erratic, Draco was sure that they had been in the cell for hours, if not a full day. Hermione had long ago stopped her pacing, and Potter and Weasley had stopped their chattering.

 

If Weasley’s stomach was anything to go by – which apparently it was – it was well into the evening, maybe the early morning hours. They had first arrived at Malfoy Manor an hour before midnight the day before – two days before?. That made it more than twenty four hours. Sitting in pitch-blackness. With nothing to think about but his mother.

 

Well, not his mother any more he guessed.

 

He had no family now.

 

And as much of a spark as Hermione had given him earlier…

 

Seeing Hermione interact with Potter and Weasley… It only cemented the fact that she was one of them, part of them. She was with them. Even if she _liked_ Draco – they were her family. And she fit with them in a way she did not fit with him.

 

The three of them, they belonged together, they clicked. And with Draco, well, it was always a fight, or someone upset, or having to not talk about something, dancing around the important issues. The two of them could never be that comfortable.

 

So he had given up everything. His family, his birthright, his power, everything and everyone he cared about was gone.

 

And he was trapped in his own bloody fucking cell.

 

He thought before that he had been like a zombie, a dead body reanimated before.

 

He had had no idea.

 

Draco imagined his insides splayed out in front of him on the floor, his heart leaking blood, covering the ground, and he couldn’t find it in himself to move.

 

Then, so slowly Draco didn’t notice until it was almost too much it felt like the beat of blood through his body had stopped, slowly turning him to ice, from some distant place he recognized that he was shivering with it. Then his breath left him. It somehow had the courage to do what he couldn’t make himself – end it. And from that same distance place he felt his lungs react, straining to get the air back. He was gasping, but felt like there was no air for him to take in.

 

But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

 

He had lost everything.

 

Even himself.

 

He barely even noticed as the cell they were in was suddenly flooded by light.


	43. Chapter 43

Hermione was blinded by the sudden light. Her eyes had been in such total darkness for so long her mind immediately panicked. That was probably the point, she thought with barely suppressed anger. How cruel did you have to be to mentally torture someone AND physically torture them. To plan it all out. Ron had been right – it was like a cat playing with its food.

 

But Draco had said the lights would only turn on when someone broke. When their mind started to fall to pieces…

 

She still couldn’t see very well, but there were three indistinct shapes near her she knew to be Harry, Ron, and Draco.

 

“You ok?”

 

“Yeah, can’t see a thing though.”

 

“I’m fine, never thought I’d want that darkness back.”

 

There was too long of a pause

 

“Draco?”

 

Nothing

 

“Draco!”

 

As her sight slowly came back she saw the red and black of Ron and Harry’s heads swirled in front of her as they moved to stand, but Draco didn’t move.

 

“Draco, say something!”

 

She stumbled half blind to where he was still laying on the ground.

 

“Draco, get up!”

 

Hermione grabbed his shoulder and involuntarily recoiled – he was cold as ice, and he was shaking uncontrollably. She put a hand back to his skin, moving to his chest.

 

“Please, please, please, please…” She waiting until finally she felt him draw a shallow quick breath, before laying still again.

 

Her vision was clearing more and more. She looked at his face and was surprised to see Draco’s eyes wide open, tracing her movements. He wasn’t unconscious. But somehow he couldn’t respond. Was this where the physical torture began, was he in pain?

 

She carefully pulled him up until he was sitting and wrapped her arms around him tightly, trying to give him her warmth. She felt him take another breath. And then another. She didn’t know how long it took but eventually his breathing began to match hers. The shaking tapered off, and finally, Draco’s stiff cold body relaxed into her embrace.

 

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from somewhere outside of the empty cell. Almost as soon as Hermione registered the sound of the steps Draco was out of her arms and standing straight. Hermione was amazed. If she had not experience what he had just gone through herself she never would have known anything was different about him.

 

Draco stood tall and straight, his head held just slightly higher than normal so his chin was in the air, and his usual haughty expression was on his face. He was paler than normal she thought, but that could easily be explained by being in a cell for a day. No, there was no sign of Draco’s breakdown, no sign of his emotion at all. It was unnerving.

 

Hermione stood quickly as the footsteps grew closer. Standing, waiting to see who would come into view – friend or foe.

 

Ron moved suddenly, darting back to the other side of the cell. Hermione looked frantically to see what had made him run, but she couldn’t see anything. Ron didn’t go far, reaching the other end of their room he quickly picked up the invisibility cloak.

 

But there was no way all of them could fit under it, she looked between them trying to decide who would be best to hide. She had almost decided on Harry – he was the most important to the war after all – when Ron, seemingly without thought, threw the cloak on top of Draco before walking back to stand next to Harry and herself.

 

Of course Draco should be under the cloak. Hermione felt a moment of guilt for not thinking of him first, but the thought was pushed quickly to the back of her mind as a hulking figure strode into view. Ron had acted just in time. The dark robbed figure in front of them eyed the cell carefully before pulling back his hood.

 

“My my. What have we here?” His voice was smooth as silk, dangerous and low. It was almost familiar to Hermione, so much like Draco’s but just… different.

 

“You’re supposed to be in Azkaban.” Ron’s voice echoed around the cell.

 

“And you, children, are supposed to be in school. However, it would seem the Dark Lord watches over his followers much more closely than your dear headmaster was watching over you. I have been taken out of a bad situation – you three find yourselves in one.”

 

Hermione’s heart jumped at the mention of Dumbledore’s name. Surely if they had caught him they would be bragging about it. If Dumbledore had gotten out, he would know they were missing, had seen Draco at least. Dumbledore would be coming for them. This reminded her strongly of something Draco had said before – about them relying on the adults around them – but honestly, she didn’t care. Please let them come. Please let them be saved.

 

Because, as she looked into the face of Luscious Malfoy standing in front of her – she was positive she had never been this scared before in her entire life.

 

\---

 

Draco’s heart thrummed in his chest. He could feel the reverberation through his entire body. It was too much, it was all too much. After everything, his father stood in front of them. His father who should be in Azkaban. His father who had guided him, and ordered him to this path.

 

Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn’t – but Draco saw his father as the cause of… everything. The catalyst that had made the world around Draco explode. Sure, Draco made his own choices, he was no longer a child, scared into a corner. But… it all went back to him. Back to his father.

 

Moments ago Draco had been cracked. He had lost himself completely – Draco knew this was the case not only because he had felt it, but because it had triggered the cell to expose them, called their captor to them. He felt like he should be embarrassed by this, that he was the one that had been weak, he was the one that had broken. But he just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

 

Hermione’s embrace had focused him. Given him something to cling to, something to pull him out of the broken place that had been consuming him. When his father had lowered his hood Draco had teetered, about to fall back into that abyss, the pieces of him shaking to get free. But, his anger centered him even more than Hermione had. As Draco stood, staring at the man he had once so admired, it was almost as though an illusion dropped. And he was just a man. A greedy, cruel man. And Draco saw clearly that his father had never cared about him, not really, only the things Draco could do for him. And for the first time in his life Draco thought his father looked small.

 

“When I was notified that someone had broken into my house I was delighted. Surely, only a member of the Order would do something quite so idiotic. But now, I see it is none other than Harry Potter. And I couldn’t be more thrilled.”

 

Draco could almost see Hermione’s brain working as she tried to come up with a plan to escape while his father spoke. His father had always been a fan of lecturing – so hopefully she would have time.

 

“Now, I will call the Dark Lord to you, have no doubt of that. But first, when an opportunity presents itself, well – A Malfoy will certainly take advantage of it.”

 

Shite.

 

That was not nearly as long as his lectures to Draco usually were. But, looking at the man, he seemed to be almost shaking with excitement; apparently the idea of torturing Potter was too much for him to delay.

 

“Follow me.”

 

The trio in front of Draco exchanged looks but Hermione only shook her head, and they slowly walked forward, following Lucius.

 

“Oh, and of course, drop your wands.” Lucius said this with a smirk, clearly enjoying the brief moment of hope that he had given them. They slowly pulled their wands, and dropped them to the ground, Potter visibly grimacing as he did so. But, as they began to walk Hermione shot a quick glance behind in Draco’s general direct.

 

Waiting until his father, with the three students trailing behind, had turned a corner Draco quickly gathered the wands, and raced as quietly as he could to catch up. He caught them right before the entered the intended room, and slipped through the door behind them.

 

To anyone who had not witnessed what could be done in this room, it probably seemed fairly innocuous. White walls, white floors. Nothing else.

 

The second they were in the door Lucius flicked his wand and Potter, Weasley, and Hermione were pinned to the opposite wall. Draco’s breath caught – but he had no idea what to do. He knew he could not beat his father in a duel, and any hope of giving the trio their wands back was gone now that they were spread out and pinned on the wall in front of him.

 

“First of all, my wife is missing. And you –“ he twisted his wand, and all three of them gasped “I am sure” another twist, and another gasp. Weasley’s face started to splotch red, and Hermione’s eyes were wet and wide “Are somehow to blame.”

 

So Dumbledore had taken his mother after all…

 

There was no twist this time, instead Lucius strode forward. Draco had always been envious of the way his father managed to walk gracefully, in even the most extreme of circumstances. But, right now, he was in his element, and his walk was as powerful and dangerous as Draco had ever seen it.

 

Potter’s eyes narrowed when Lucius’s wand landed lightly on his check, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t blink.

 

“You will tell me where she is.”

 

“You’ll have to kill me first.”

 

“Oh, I plan to let the Dark Lord carry out that pleasant task.” The man’s wand trailed slowly down to Harry’s chest. “However, you would be amazed at what the body can handle before it succumbs to its final breath.”

 

There was a half second pause before the screams began. Although Harry’s body was pinned to the wall it looked like Harry was simultaneously being ripped from it – or something was being ripped from inside of him. Harry’s screams mixed with Hermione and Ron’s protests as they yelled for his father to stop. Draco knew this spell. It would freeze the victims blood - slowly, but keep them alive to feel the burning pain it caused.

 

Lucius only smiled as he dropped his wand, eyes never leaving the now panting and grimacing boy in front of him.

 

Harry was glaring back at Draco’s father, despite his ragged breaths and Draco could not help but be impressed. He had seen that spell used on others – none had been able to hold their head up straight after, let alone glare at the one casting it.

 

“Hmm, just as stubborn as they say.” Said Lucius, noting Harry’s defiant look. “Maybe another dose –“

 

But before he could even raise his wand Hermione and Ron both started yelling again. With the echoes Draco couldn’t make out the exact words, but he saw Lucius’s smile grow larger before he cast a silencing spell.

 

“Ah, yes, I forget who I am dealing with. Your friends both offer to take your place. Should I let them, Harry Potter?”

 

“No, don’t you –“ But before he could finish Harry’s voice was cut off too.

 

“We will start out slow with them, how does that sound?” He stalked over to stand now in front of Ron. His face was steadily gaining more and more color as he fought harder and harder to breath. Draco knew what was happening to him – the effects of the room. Unless you were a Malfoy – or a guest – the pressure in the room slowly increased until your body could not take it any more. So in addition to whatever his father decided to do, they trio was slowly being squeezed to death. It would take about a day for them to die from it. But Draco had seen how it ends.

 

He had to think of something.

Draco started to inch forward as quietly as possible, making his way to the side of the room with the trio on the wall.

 

And away from the door. From escape.

 

And for some reason, no matter how much “stupid Gryffindor’ repeated in his head, he just kept moving forward.

 

“Hello Weasley.” He also had always been jealous of how slick his father’s voice could sound. He had once thought it like velvet, now it evoked an image of sticky oil. “It is a pity your family can’t be here to witness this.” His wand made a slash in front of Ron’s chest and – although the shirt remained unharmed, Draco could see the blood almost immediately begin seeping through it as Ron yelled out. “Although, your brother – what’s his name? – ahh doesn’t matter does it. The one with the glasses, yes? He would come if I called. He would probably clean your blood up off my floor if I asked him to, the power hungry little weasel.”

“You basta – Ahhh!” Ron’s insult turned into another yell as Lucius added another slash, this time down the side of his face. Draco could see the blood pouring out, a stark contrast against Ron’s quickly paling skin.

 

Lucius turned now and walked in the other direction, towards where Draco now stood, towards Hermione. The blood was now falling from Ron in a slow stead drip-drip-drip, and it echoed around the room as Harry and Hermione silently fought against their ties, still under his father’s silencing spell.

 

“Pretty girl.” Lucius’s voice was low, almost a whisper but it didn’t matter, in Draco’s ears it was a scream.

 

Draco’s blood ran cold as he stood motionless mere feet away from this man.

 

This man that was about to hurt Hermione.

 

And he had no idea what to do about it.

 

An image flashed in his head of himself running forward, wand forgotten, and simply jumping on the man, hitting him, hurting him.

 

But he didn’t move.

 

He was no Gryffindor.

 

The pieces of him started to waver again, threatening to crumble once more.

 

But no. No. He was not a Gryffindor.

 

But he was a Slytherin.

 

Draco looked around the room once more and slipped behind his father, edging as close as he could to Harry without touching him.

 

“As much as I would love to see how muddy your blood really is – I wouldn’t want to spoil my robes.” The wand trailed slowly up from Hermione’s stomach to her face, until he pointed at her head, a smirk on his face. “Plus, I always relish a chance to use my creativity. I’ve heard you pride yourself on being quite the know-it-all. Let’s see.”

 

Draco forced himself to look away as he poked Harry in the side before carefully pushing back his robe and sliding a wand in his pocket. Harry looked down and might have gasped – had he not been silenced. But he only nodded slightly looking forward again.

 

Hermione was screaming. Draco could hear nothing else. But he couldn’t look. If he looked he knew he would not be able to keep working. Knew he would do something stupid.

 

Her voice choked as she screamed. And Draco moved in the opposite direction.

 

Silencing spells did not work on screams. Especially not in this room.

 

That was half the fun after all.

 

Draco sidled up to Ron’s side as Hermione’s scream broke off. Draco heard her struggling for breath as he slipped the wand in Ron’s pocket as he had with Harry.

 

“Oh my. That sound – music. I do love to hear a girl choke. Shall we try this another way?” Hermione dropped from the wall to the floor. Landing on her knees, Lucius standing in front of her.

 

Draco felt Ron’s struggling increased as Hermione suddenly fell silent.

 

It took the words a little longer to hit him, he had been trying so hard to block the sounds out.

 

But then the gears in his brain seemed to slow, and he looked over to the scene about to unfold.

 

And he could see what would happen next. His father reached down one hand and cupped Hermione’s chin, forcing her to look up at him. His other hand moved to his belt.

 

And that man standing in front of Hermione – standing much too close to Hermione – was not his father.

 

Was not a person.

 

And maybe everyone has a little bit of Gryffindor in them.

 

Because, almost exactly as he imagined earlier, his wand dropped from his hand, echoing in the now completely silent room as it hit the hard floor, and Draco was racing forwards, thoughtless of anything but causing as much pain as possible, the invisibility cloak dropping to the floor as he ran forward.

 

The man that had been his father turned and, to Draco, it was almost as though it was happening in slow motion.

 

The shock on the face before him would have been comical – but it was not.

 

Not now.

 

And, God, If Hermione wasn’t the most amazing thing ever to exist. Because even as Draco was sure she had been paralyzed in fear only moments before, the second Lucius turned his head she had reached forward to pull the wand from his fingers.

 

In any normal situation that would have never worked on Lucius. It was only the shock of seeing his son appear from nowhere, running towards him that had made his grip so lax. But, it was, and Hermione now held his wand.

 

Draco still raced forward and the second he was close enough, he sent his fist flying towards that confused expression. He could feel the impact reverberate back up through his fist and into his arm, shaking the bones inside. But he couldn’t think about it long, because then they were tumbling to the ground and Lucius had a hand around Draco’s throat as they rolled across the dungeon floor.

 

Draco could feel his vision begin to spot, but his arms were free and as they came to a stop with his father over him Draco began to pump his fists as hard as he could into his gut. There wasn’t a good angle, and barely any space to move, so Draco couldn’t have been causing much damage. But, maybe just the ferocity of it was enough to make his father hesitate, and they stopped moving for a moment.

le

Draco felt Lucius blasted off of him to the other side of the dungeon. Draco looked up to see Hermione with his father’s wand pointed towards them, still kneeling on the ground. She seemed to be struggling to even stay straight. Yet she had nonverbally blasted a grown man across the room.

 

They locked eyes, just for a second, but it was too long. Lucius had been thrown right in front of Ron. Right where Draco had been standing not minutes before. Right where he had dropped his and Hermione’s wand. Both of which were now being pointed at their owners.

 

Shite.

 

Hermione scrambled the few feet to Draco’s side and grabbed his robes briefly before she lost the last of her strength as she collapsed next to him. Draco, who had sat up once his father had no longer been on top of him glanced down at the witch. Although her exhaustion seemed completely genuine, her limbs shaking, and face white and damp with sweat, she winked at him before looking down, attempting to sit herself.

 

“Well well, this is interesting.”

 

Draco only looked back at the man, now towering over him, both wands now pointed at his face.

 

How had he ever thought his father seemed small? Lucius was a giant.

 

“I heard about your little act of rebellion with the potion – but I never would have guessed it had gone this far. Consorting with mudbloods and blood traitors.” He gestured behind him and Draco looked at Ron for the first time in a few minutes and was startled at how white Ron was. He wasn’t moving either, and the pool of blood beneath him seemed to still be spreading slowing across the floor.

 

He looked close to dead.

 

If he wasn’t there already.

 

Draco glanced to Harry who was still struggling feebly against the spell binding him to the wall. There was a spot of blood on the wall behind him where it looked like he had hit his head, and Draco could see the blue tinge starting to show in his skin – a side effect of the spell Lucius had cast on him earlier, the iced blood was spreading.

 

“Tell me son, what could have possibly made you turn your back on us?”

 

Without thought Draco’s eyes darted to Hermione – reminding him forcefully of conversations he had many times with her. Conversations, arguments, about what he would be giving up, what it would cost.

 

His father’s laugh was dark as he turned one of the wands back on Hermione “The mudblood bitch…” he said with amusement “Draco, I expected you to have better taste than that. Letting your head be turned at the chance to fuck something so worthless?”

 

Draco’s blood boiled, but he was frozen again. He had a wand pointed at him, Hermione had a wand pointed at her. The two on the wall were as good as gone.

 

He didn’t say anything.

 

“Ahh, there’s the spineless son I’ve always known. I knew you’d never be strong, never be a leader on your own. But Merlin if you didn’t jump when I said jump.”

 

The words pounded through Draco’s skull, bouncing around, making his ears ring with it.

 

“Yes father.” Draco heard himself say it before he could think too much, and he lowered his head, averting his eyes from his father’s gloating face. Anything to save them. Anything to keep Hermione alive.

 

“I’ll tell you what Draco. You do something for me now and we might be able to fix this.” His father stepped forward toward him and Draco felt himself begin to shake from the tension in his head. He was surprised enough to look back up at his father when he felt his wand pressed back into his hand. “Crucio the mudblood. And your involvement here will never be known.”

 

Draco looked down at the wand in his hand – it was Hermione’s. He gripped it tightly and a few sparks jumped out the end - in revolt or recognition of Draco’s grasp – he didn’t know which. Keeping his eyes on the wand he stood slowly, turning to face Hermione.

 

He couldn’t help it, his eyes searched hers out – looking for the disappointment there, looking for the hurt. But he couldn’t see it.

 

She was facing him, eyes wide, but firm, not showing fear. Her face was completely open, as vulnerable as he had ever seen it, and he felt his heart crumbling before him.

 

Her trust in him was unthinkable.

 

And stupid.

 

And Misplaced.

 

He had thought earlier that he didn’t deserve Hermione. Now he knew it. The bravery it took to look at him like that…

 

He raised Hermione’s wand slowly to point it straight at that sweet, open face.

 

“You have to mean it.” Draco’s voice cracked slightly but he pressed on “When you cast the cruciatus curse.” Draco kept waiting for the doubt to flicker in the eyes in front of him, but they stayed steady.

 

He looked at her more intently now, straightening his shoulders “If you don’t mean it, if you can’t find it in yourself to hurt the victim – the spell is shite.” He took a step forward closer to Hermione, away from his father. “You have to mean it Hermione. Mean it!”


	44. Chapter 44

The sound of the spells echoed around the chamber, Draco’s spell freeing Hermione’s voice was easily drowned out by her unforgivable curse, cast at almost the same time. Draco wasn’t even sure if his spell had been necessary or if Hermione had simply overcome the silencing spell his father had placed on her. 

Lucius was on the ground. But he was already stirring, shaking off the effects of Hermione’s crucio. 

She hadn’t meant it, not enough. 

How could she have not wanted to hurt Lucius? 

Draco quickly shot ropes out of the wand in his hand to bind Lucius tight. 

Hermione was already on her feet and kneeling next to the limp form of Ron on the floor. When his father was hit by the cruciatus his spells had lost their power, and Harry and Ron had dropped to the floor, hard. Harry was haltingly making his way over to Ron as well, giving no heed as he drug himself on hands and knees through his friend’s blood.

Draco could hear Hermione muttering a healing charm, and the flow of Ron’s blood slowly halted. 

“We need to get out of here Draco. Now.” 

“Right, here, levitate him, I can lead us out.” But as he looked down he saw Hermione was shaking like a leaf, still pale and drawn. He hadn’t seen what spell his father had used on her, but whatever it was, it was still working it’s way through her somehow. She tried to get to her feet but they trembled out from under her, and she blinked slowly as though she was trying to clear a fog from her brain.

“Ok, Harry – look, I know your legs feel like they are on fire, but can you stand?” He watched as Harry slowly, so slowly, got to his feet using the wall as a brace. 

“I can walk.” 

Draco looked at him skeptically, but he shook his head at him 

“It’s better when I’m standing, feels more solid. I’ll get Hermione – lets just get out of here.”

Harry grabbed the wand from his pocket and cast a spell to levitate Hermione in front of him. She accepted without protest which worried Draco even more than even her shaking had. The sweat was dripping from her brown now, and her eyelids kept fluttering closed.

Fucking hell…

“Come on.” Draco quickly levitated Ron, grabbed the invisibility cloak and led the way out of the room. There was actually a pretty simple way out of the dungeons in Malfoy Manor, if you knew it. 

The few minutes it took to walk felt like an eternity. He could hear Harry’s labored breath behind him growing heavier and heavier, but he didn’t dare look back to check As though not knowing could prevent the worst. He pushed on even faster. When they reached the flat stone wall Draco put Ron down before turning his wand on himself. The trick to the exit wasn’t to spell the door, but to spell yourself. 

Quickly muttering the spell Draco felt his whole body constrict. Almost like the feeling of appareling, except lasting longer. But, when it was done there was the door, in front of him. He looked back to see Harry leaning against the wall, an almost shocking shade of blue, while a now unconscious Hermione wavered in the air next to him as his power wavered. 

“Harry! We could use some of that stupid Gryffindor savior complex right about now.” Draco snapped in front of his face and Harry's eyes focused a little more, as he scowled. And Draco turned his wand and spelled Harry, Hermione, and Ron to be able to pass through the doors as well. 

“Fuck off Malfoy, I don’t have a savior complex…” 

“Ya ya, you can tell me to fuck off all you want so long as you do it while we are walking. Come on.”

Draco, probably not as gently as he should, pushed Harry out of the door in front of them and he followed behind the floating form of Hermione as they emerged into the open air. Draco was surprised at the quality of light as they exited, dawn? He made himself start a quick jog to get to the cover of the woods, watching Harry to make sure he was able to keep up. 

Finally they made it to the cover of the trees and Draco saw Harry stumble slightly before collapsing onto the ground, setting Hermione much more carefully next to him. 

“Now what?” 

“Um…” 

Harry sighed, looking up at the sky. “Really? No escape plan Malfoy?”

“My escape plan, Potter, was the thestrals. But I doubt any of you will make it that long.”

“No… No, I don’t imagine so.” Harry glanced between his unconscious friends, but Draco was pretty sure Harry was having a hard time staying conscious himself. He was shaking now, from the cold slowly seeping through him, freezing him from the inside out. Pulling out his wand Harry grimaced, and took a deep breath before muttering a spell. 

Draco almost yelled in surprise when a great, glowing stag appeared in front of them. He heard Harry mutter “Get Dumbledore” and the stag raced off into the night. Draco thought he heard him murmer "I hope that works..." before Harry toppled onto his side, finally giving into his own unconsciousness. 

The old man appeared much sooner than Draco had expected. The normally stoic old man’s calm seemed to flicker as he looked around. 

Blood.

Unconscious students. 

And Draco. 

Unmoving, and waiting to be rescued.


	45. Chapter 45

There is a quality to the light in the morning sometimes. Soft and welcoming. Almost like the light itself is happy. You can feel it dancing on your eyelids before you even open them, promising a peaceful day. 

That was not the type of light that woke Draco up the next morning. The second he was awake he had no idea how he had not woken up sooner. The harsh orange glow coming from the other side of his eyelids promised nothing but pain and annoyance in the coming day. Or maybe that was the pounding headache that seemed to make is head feel like it was full of a million tiny wands shooting off a million not so tiny difindos. Or possibly it was the scratchy dry carpet that seemed to have replaced his tongue over night. 

And that was before he remembered what had happened. 

It was a few moments, but soon enough it came crashing down – making how he felt physically almost enjoyable in comparison. 

Shite. 

He did his best not to move. As if keeping his eyes shut and muscles still could delay the inevitable passage of time. Passage of time that would make him think about his mother. Think about his father. 

Shite. 

Unfortunately, and predictably this did not work. 

Before long Draco began to process his surroundings. Scratchy cheap bedding, smelling almost too clean. As though whatever had been on them before had really needed some work to be removed. Draco cringed and began moving to get out of the offending bed but stopped quickly as he heard a door open across the room. 

“Madam Pomfrey, have any of them woken up yet?”

“Afraid not Dumbledore, though I am not surprised… Whatever happened to them in that place… Well, I’m surprised they even made it here. You really have no idea what happened?”

“Unfortunately no. We were unaware the other three were even there until we found them missing and pieced it together. But that was not until after a substantial amount of time passed – as you know – Narcissa Malfoy was not exactly cooperative in her rescue, and it took quite a few favors being called in to get her to a secure location. Lupin went after young Mr. Malfoy, but was forced to flee before we could find him. He barely escaped with his life as well.” 

They had taken his mother after all? Of course. He remembered his father mentioning it – but he had been… distracted. So much had been going on… The others! Where was Hermione? Draco acknowledged grudgingly that he was even – just a little bit – concerned about the other two. 

Professor McGonagall began speaking as though she could read Draco’s thoughts, he hadn’t realized she was there as well, but her voice cut across the room, sharp and efficient.

“Will there be any lasting effects on the children Pomona?”

“Until they wake up it is impossible to say. Mr. Malfoy will be fine, it appears he suffered mostly from exhaustion, the others… I don’t even recognize the spells that were used on Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter.”

“And Mr. Weasley?”

Draco held his breath, waiting for her answer. If he died, if his father had killed… But, his father had killed other people. Draco had never considered the reality of it…

“He will be fine as well. After a considerable amount of rest. He lost more blood than I thought possible, however with the replenishing potions – more than I have ever needed to use before – he will recover. 

Draco squeezed his eyes tight savoring his last moments of faux sleep before pulling himself up and climbing off of the bed. It was more difficult than it should have been and he realized, along with everything else, his muscles ached. But, considering… he’d take it. 

He stood up on shaky legs, giving himself a moment to adjust before squaring his shoulders, raising his chin, and walking out from behind the curtain that was shading his bed. 

“Madam Pomfrey, the spell used on Potter was a variation of a cooling charm – uniquely known in the Malfoy line I believe. However, if his heart is still beating and his temperature is up at this point – he will survive. The only lasting effects will be a lower resting body temperature for a few months, nothing a jacket cannot cure.” Draco was trying hard to control his voice, to appear calm and collected. He needed information that he was sure Dumbledore would not be eager to give. However, if he gave information first, hopefully that would increase Dumbledore’s willingness to deal with him. 

“I am not sure exactly what spell was placed on Hermione – There are a few possibilities. I would be happy to sit with you to narrow it down – as well as the appropriate course of action going forward.” The whole time he had been speaking Draco had kept his gaze firmly on Madam Pomfrey, but now he turned to look Dumbledore straight in the eye. “I am more than happy to discuss in detail the series of events that led us here, as I am sure you are very curious. However, first I need to know what you have done with my mother.” 

Draco saw Professor McGonagall shoot Dumbledore a quick look, but before she could argue Dumbledore held up his hand. “Certainly Draco. All will be known in time, however, are you quite sure you wouldn’t –“

“No.” Draco did not look away, and Dumbledore held his gaze just as firmly. The old man’s eyes infuriatingly full of sympathy that Draco did not want. 

“We took your mother against her will, suspecting the influence of a spell or curse was influencing her behavior. She is currently in a secure and private ward at St. Mungo’s.” 

“And?”

“Mr. Malfoy?”

“Were you correct in your assumption, was she under the influence of a spell or curse?” Draco held his breath, keeping his face blank, passive, as though the answer did not mean much to him either way. 

“It is still early, however… No. It does not appear so.” 

Involuntarily Draco felt his head jerk back as if slapped, He raised his chin another centimeter or two higher. “Very well.” He turned, intending to go back to his dorm, however he stopped short before taking more than a few steps. “If there is no sign of magical interference they cannot hold her, correct?”

“That is correct.”

“How long?”

“They can hold her for one week to complete their tests.”

“Very well” Draco repeated, and turned again to leave. 

“Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore sounded reluctant, “I would very much like to allow you to rest, and forget about the last few days however, we need to know what happened. Preferably while your memory is fresh.”

Draco paused, but didn’t turn. What he really wanted was to tell the old man to fuck off. That all of his promises had been for nothing, that his mother would now be in more danger than she had been before, that his mother didn’t even consider herself his mother anymore, and it had been Dumbledore’s fault. That is had been up to him to make the plan, up to him to rescue Draco’s mother. And he had fucked it all up. And even if that sounded suspiciously like something he imagined Potter would say, and even if he knew better, that is what he wanted to say. 

But no, it had been his fault. He had put his trust in Dumbledore; that was on him. He followed along with plan, had helped devise it. 

Knowing that didn’t make his anger go away though. 

Ok, Draco thought, let the old man know what happened, let him know all the dirty painful details, let him feel bad about leading the charge. And so Draco walked slowly back to the bed he had been sleeping on, perched on the edge, and began the story. 

Draco had always known how to tell a good story. And he was able to keep the three adults before him as enthralled as he ever had while regaling his Slytherins with a tale. By the end madam Pomfrey had conjured a tissue she was roughly blowing her nose into, McGonagall was blinking rather more often than necessary, and Dumbledore had not looked away from him once. 

“So, Professor,” he finally bit out, pouring as much condescension into his voice as possible. “Now may I be excused?” Draco found after telling all that had happened he didn’t feel vindicated, even with their tears, rather, he just felt exhausted. 

“Of course.” Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle for the moment – Draco tried to take this as a sign of victory, but just couldn’t seem to do it. “Thank you Draco. Please let us know if you need anything.”

Madam Pomfrey ducked back into her tissue as Draco walked purposefully to the door, pausing momentarily when he saw Hermione through a crack in the curtains around her bed, feeling like there were stones dropping in his stomach. “I will send you a list of the possible spells my father used on her.”

As odd as it was for Draco to realize, he was rather grateful that the world had in fact carried on without them, and most everyone was currently in class. He moved quickly through the empty hallways, into the Slytherin common room, and collapsed at his desk. After listing spells his father favored that he could have used on Hermione and sending it off with Aquila he laid in bed. Doing his best to tune out any thoughts. 

Of course, that never had worked before. Instead, his mind played through the events of the last days on repeat – searching for what he could have done different. And invariably finding no answer. 

\----

Hermione had just woken up a few hours ago, though from what she had been told she had been asleep for more than a day longer than Harry and Ron. She had been awake just long enough for the shock of being alive to wear off – and she supposed she should be happy, supposed she should be glad everyone had made it out. But she just couldn’t seem to manage it. Of course she was relieved everyone was ok it just seemed so… pointless. Sure they were all fine – but if it hadn’t been for her interfering, that wouldn’t have even been in question. 

But she had tried to help – like she always did. Only this time, the person she was trying to help didn’t need it, or didn’t want it. From what the others had said Draco’s mother was still at St. Mungo's, but they only had a couple of days before she was released. And then who knew what would happen. Hermione was not inclined to think that Voldemort would care that she had been taken against her will. She would be punished again. This time for Hermione’s plan. 

Draco had not been in to see her. She did not blame him though. Apparently no one had really seen him since he left the hospital wing, except occasionally when he had stopped by the great hall to get food during meals before heading back to the dungeons. Hermione had activated Draco’s ring once she had a moment, and to her relief, had felt a quick tightening and warming of in response. 

Beyond that – who knew. She felt like her heart was as exhausted as her mind and body. And she knew she couldn’t be feeling half as much as Draco. As much as she wanted to help him – she really didn’t’ know how. 

With Harry it was easy – let him rant and rave. Listen to him. And then he’d feel better. With Ron the best thing was to distract him, talk about something else. But with Draco… And with something as big as what they had just gone through… she was at a loss. 

Hermione was startled out of her thoughts at the sound of the Hospital wing door opening with a loud bang.

“Now really Mr. Weasley!” Madam Pomfrey huffed as she hurried out of her office to see who had caused the ruckus. 

“orry pofry, hnd foo” Was Ron’s response. 

Hermione’s curiosity was satiated as he walked through the curtains surrounding her bed, both hands holding plats brimming with food and half a sandwich stuffed in his mouth. 

“ought oo’d be ngry”

Hermione surprised herself with a laugh before sitting up slowly to grab a plate from him. She had barely sat back when Harry walked through the curtains, slightly out of breath.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“What, and watch you snog my little sister? No thanks.”

Harry blushed, but didn’t say anything else, snagging a sandwich off of the plate in front of Hermione, and determinedly looking anywhere but at Ron.

Hermione laughed again, finding herself relaxing slightly in their company, despite everything. 

“So,” said Ron, having finally finished the sandwich that had been in his mouth “what do you think Dumbledore is going to do?”

“What do you mean?” Harry, thankfully, swallowed his bite before asking. 

“Well,” Ron was now gesticulating with his second sandwich, bits of lettuce and onion dropping onto the white bed sheet as he spoke “there is no way that Dumbledore will just give her back to them, right? So what is he going to do? 

“What can he do, kidnap her?”

“Honestly Ron, I don’t know that there is anything he can do. If she really isn’t under any sort of spell or magical influence… People get to make their own decisions – even if they’re bad ones.”

Harry and Ron were both looking at her skeptically, clearly having thought she would not give in so easily. 

“Really – Harry was right, what is he going to do? Kidnap her? Keep her against his will? Magically influence her himself? I mean – I don’t like it, but… can you honestly give me an alternative? Other than doing something illegal or morally questionable?”

The boys were both silent in thought for a minute before Harry finally spoke “I don’t know – but I think letting her go back might be ‘morally questionable’ too…”

After that they finished their lunch in silence – each lost in their own thoughts. It must have been at least twenty minutes later when the silence was finally broken.

“Do you think Draco has nice skin?”

Hermione, who had been about to drift off was positive she had heard Ron incorrectly, but Harry, jarred out of his own thoughts, barked a laugh fit for Sirius, and Ron was blushing furiously.

“No, no, come on, I only mean, I notice girls with nice skin and- ” Harry started laughing harder at this explanation and Hermione joined in. 

“AND!” Ron almost yelled to be heard over the laughter “And, I thought maybe that’s why you liked Draco – cause he has nice skin…” Clearly, Ron knew when he was beat, instead of further trying to explain he said “Oh sod off” and scowled at his two friends until the laughter subsided.

Eventually, once able to catch her breath again Hermione confronted Ron’s glare with a perfectly straight face “You think Draco has nice skin Ron?” She could hear Harry stifling his laugh behind her, and tried her best to keep hers inside as well. 

“No. Hermione. I do not think Draco has nice skin. I was trying to understand your… not-hate of him. Trying to be a friend.” Hermione had to cover her mouth to hide the grin, and Harry had clearly given up trying to cover his amusement and was chuckling again “See what I get for trying?” Ron said with an exasperated sigh, but his mouth was turning up at the corners, trying to hide his own grin. 

Hermione just shook her head smiling “Honestly, after the last few days – can you honestly say that you don’t ‘not-hate’ him a little bit?”

“Maybe…”

“I mean… I guess he kind of saved our lives…”

“And watching him beat up his dad was pretty cool.” Harry grinned at the memory

“Yeah, who would have ever guessed I’d be rooting for Malfoy in a fight – er, well Draco I guess. As they’re both Malfoy…” 

“But you liked him before we saw him beat up his dad Hermione.” Harry had joined in on the questioning, “so what made you stop hating him?”

She had to pause before answering because, frankly, she wasn’t quite sure. “When I found out why he wanted the potion so badly? Or maybe when I realized he actually was as smart as he likes to act like he is, I really don’t know…”

This time, in the silence that followed, Hermione really did fall asleep, and when she next woke up it was dark in the hospital wing, clearly well past night fall, and she could see the shadows cast by the moonlight through the cracks in her curtains. 

She had woken up suddenly, and it took a moment for her to realize why, but then she felt it again, the ring on her finger burned, squeezing tight, signaling. Meet now – potions room.


	46. Chapter 46

Hermione shook her head as she slipped out the door of the hospital wing and into the hallway. Draco was definitely a bad influence. But, no, that wasn’t exactly true, she couldn’t count the number of times she had snuck out with Harry and Ron.

The quiet of the castle was thick and heavy. It was always strange to Hermione, a place so big, so full of people and magic, but at night – that was when you could really feel the magic. It made her heart swell a little with the peace of it. Hermione loved the castle at night. 

Thankfully her trip to the dungeons remained peaceful and it was almost with surprise that she realized she was already at their potions room. 

Hermione opened the door quietly, there was no light inside, and although the hallways were only lit with torches the contrast blinded her as she walked through the doorway. The room was completely silent too. Had she remembered their code correctly? There was a small scuffling sound to her right, and her wand dropped into her hand before she even thought about it. 

Thankfully, before she could fire off a spell Draco cast lumos. The dim light he was creating made shadows dance on the wall and across his face. It was like he was trying to give off as little illumination as possible. 

“Draco” Hermione said at the same time he said “Hermione”

She started to smile, but it faded quickly. 

“I um, I felt the ring go off, and well…” Why was it that she always felt wrong footed with him? 

“Right.” Draco finally said, “I wanted to see you.”

“Well, in that case, how about we get some actual light in here?” She lit as strong of a lumos as she could, and the room glowed in the sudden light. Both of them blinked for a moment adjusting. Then just stood, looking at each other. 

“Draco, I’m sorry - ” Hermione started to apologize, for what she wasn’t sure – going to Dumbledore? Going along with his plan? Giving him hope, only to see it crushed? There were really any number of things. But, before she could finish he cut her off. 

“Stop.” His voice was sharp and the sound of it alone made the words halt on the way out of her mouth. She was forcefully reminded of the last time she had talked to him. Right after the lights had come on in their little trap. Right after he had broken. Because she knew that was what had happened now, she hadn’t understood – but that’s what he had said. The lights came on once the prisoner “broke”. Not that she could blame him – after what had happened… But now, he stood in front of her, the commensurate captain, cock-sure and infallible. He even was affecting a small smirk at her now – probably because she had been studying him for longer than was considered polite. 

“No, but look, I just –“ 

Again he cut her off “No. Hermione, if you try to bring it up again I will leave this room.”

“You’re the one that wanted me down here Draco, if you didn’t want to talk, what do you want?” Annoyance bubbled in her tone she was sure, despite her best efforts to not let it show – given the circumstances.

His smirk grew at her statement, and Hermione began to regret her decision to hide her annoyance. Possibly Draco sensed that he was pushing her, as he put up his hands in a calming gesture, walking towards her.

“Just trying to lighten the mood, Granger” He said with a small laugh, but it fell flat almost before it left his lips. He reached her then and leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers as they had once done – had it really only been months ago? “Just… stay.”

And so Hermione wrapped her arms loosely around his side, and stayed, their noses occasionally brushed as they stood. Just breathing. 

How much time passed she wasn’t sure. Time always seemed funny with their breath matching and their eyes closed, but eventually Draco stepped back slightly, causing cold dungeon air to rush into the space where he had been. 

“Potter and Weasel okay then? I saw them walking around, so I figured, but –“

“Harry and Ron are fine. Thanks to you.” Draco’s eyes narrowed momentarily and Hermione wondered if he was about to carry out his threat of leaving if she brought it up again, but he just looked away. 

“No. Thanks to me we were all there in the first place.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that Draco, we all knew what we were doing.”

“I don’t blame myself, I’m stating facts.” Draco’s voice was sharp again, his eyes cool. But then he shook his head, as though trying to clear it. “I am not going to try to take credit for everyone’s choice to come along. However, there is no arguing that if not for me, no one would be in this mess, my mother would –“

There was silence for a beat wait Hermione waited for Draco to finish his thought, but he never did. 

“Your mother would still be imprisoned in her own home, tortured.”

The bitterness in Draco’s laugh made Hermione start. Although not surprising, it was hard to hear, like the screeching of metal in a car crash “You can hardly call it imprisonment if she was there of her own free will. Apparently she is begging to go back.”

“There are more than just physical prisons Draco…”

He just stood in front of her, not making a move to speak, studying his long fingers in the wand-light. 

“What are you going to do?” It came out as a whisper, half of her holding back, trying not to ask, but the other half desperately wanting to know. She had never been good at not asking for answers. 

Draco looked at her as though considering her, not the question. So it surprised her when he actually answered. 

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing?”

“Correct.”

“But…” Hermione couldn’t think of what to say to convince him this was a bad idea, but she knew it was. It could not be left like this. Draco couldn’t just… do nothing. All those months, working on the potion, all for her. All to try to keep her safe. And he was going to throw it away? No, that wasn’t fair, his mother had thrown it away, thrown it right back in his face. But he was just going to let her? 

“No.” Hermione’s voice came out louder than she had intended and Draco was startled for just a moment before she saw his anger set in. 

“No?”

“Correct” 

He laughed again, just as bitter as before “Bloody fucking Gryffindor.”

“Ya, Draco, you’re right – bloody fucking Gryffindor. Also – the person that has been helping you from the beginning of this thing! the person that spent more nights than I can count developing an impossible potion! The person that endured unspeakable terror testing that potion, the person that let you cast crucio on her. All for your mother! To keep her from pain! And now you’re just going to let her go back?”

“Yes! I’m just going to let her go back!” Draco shook as though his body was having a hard time containing it’s anger “Because that is what she wants! Didn’t you hear her? She has no son anymore – I have no mother. So, sorry if you feel like you wasted your precious time, but you can’t ‘save’ someone who doesn’t want to be saved. You want me to hold her against her will? Force her to stay hidden? Force her to want me as a son again? No. It’s done Hermione. It’s done.”

Hermione still didn’t think this was the right decision. But… This was not her decision to make. And now was not the time to try to change his mind.

“Have you been sleeping?”

Hermione’s question startled Draco so much that he stopped pacing – as he had been doing since they began talking about his mother – and stared at her.

“Draco, have you slept?”

“Some.” He finally admitted.

“Come with me.” Hermione held out her hand and was surprised when Draco actually took it. She muttered ‘Nox’ before leaving the room, and led them back the way she had come – to the hospital wing.

Draco did not say a word until Hermione put a finger to her lips before opening the door to the hospital wing.

“What are you doing, Hermione?”

“We are going to get some sleep. Now hush, we really don’t want to wake up Madam Pompfey right now.”

She led the way to her bed, drew the curtains behind her, and crawled into bed, pulling Draco after her. 

“I will get suspended for this Hermione, expelled.”

“No you won’t Draco. It pays to save the life of Harry Potter. Just relax.”

Hermione couldn’t help but savor the feel of Draco’s body warm against hers. The bed was small, and she really did want to sleep, so she curled up in the most comfortable way, not letting herself think too much about it. About what it meant that she was so comfortable like this. Her head was resting on Draco’s chest and she could sense more than feel him shaking his head at her, but she didn’t mind, and eventually she felt his heart beats slow and his breaths deepen. She thought he had fallen asleep, so it surprised her when she heard his whisper.

“Hermione?”

“Mmm?”

“About my father… I’m sorry, I –“

She shook her head quickly against his chest “Don’t apologize, thank you, for stopping him – “

It was silent for a minute after that, but, Draco continued.

“You cast the crucio.”

“Not very well…” After all, Lucius had stirred almost immediately after she had hit him with the curse.

“You should never have been able to Hermione. I never wanted you to be capable… To feel that hate…” Draco’s voice was so soft Hermione could barely hear it, even as close as they were. She wondered for a second if he might not be as close to asleep as she previously thought. Hermione pulled him closer without thinking, remembering the moment, how it had felt... 

“No one should be able to Draco.” She thought for a moment about how difficult it had been, even in that moment to cast the curse, and then she thought about Draco, being able to cast it on her, without danger present. “I wish you couldn’t cast it either.”

“Me too.”

This time, when Hermione felt Draco’s breaths slow and deepen he actually had fallen asleep and, finally, she allowed herself to drift into a deep sleep as well, laying in his arms. 

\----

Draco woke slowly, unaware of why he was so comfortable. Especially considering the loud voice coming from somewhere and an arm that was very much asleep. 

Hermione.

That wonderful witch. 

Currently laying in his arms. Completely cutting off the blood flow to his hand. 

As Draco pondered how best to extricate his arm without waking up Hermione his brain processed the second annoyance. A loud voice – coming closer from the sound of it. 

“…I do love quite love the oatmeal as well.”

“Albus, as interested as I am in your breakfast preferences – perhaps you should keep your voice down. It is a hospital wing after all.” Draco recognized McGonagall's voice – which was at a much more reasonable volume than the headmaster’s had been. 

Draco quickly decided getting out of the bed before the professors could walk in on the scene was more important than Hermione’s sleep. Fast as he could Draco moved to the chair by Hermione’s bed. He gained his seat just in time, and although Draco was sure he had sat down before the curtains had been pulled back, he was also sure that somehow Dumbledore knew where he had been moments before. The damn twinkle in his eyes was much too amused. Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but the headmaster just winked before turning to Hermione was a small smile. 

“Ms. Granger.” Dumbledore said, his voice now a much more reasonable volume, and Draco’s suspected that maybe the professor had just done him a favor... 

“Headmaster! Professor McGonagall!” Hermione sat up quickly, still slightly confused from the abrupt wake-up call. 

“No, no my dear. No need to worry on our account.” Dumbledore’s nonchalance had very little effect on Hermione however, who was somewhat frantically pulling her bed cloths straight while trying to simultaneously sweep her hair out of her face. 

After giving Hermione a few moments to settle, Professor McGonagall, looking slightly guilty, addressed her again “We are glad to see you recovering Ms. Granger. You gave us all quite a scare there.”

“Thank you for that” Hermione seemed to be struggling somewhat for how to respond to the gentle worried tone in her professor’s voice “Bit of sleep was all I needed I guess.”

McGonagall’s eye’s widened slightly “A bit of sleep? Ms. Granger, I believe you have sampled every healing potion at our disposal in the last few days. Has no one told you about the curse that was cast on you?”

Hermione just looked at her, mouth slightly open. “No, um, well, I’ve only really spoken to Harry and Ron. Madam Pomfrey was here for a minute, but she just gave me something to put me back to sleep, and well, I didn’t really ask…”

“You are very lucky to have survived at all. I am not surprised your friends did not wish to speak of it. The curse that was cast on you is one, the likes of which I have never seen before.” McGonagall paused here, glancing at Draco as though considering how much to say. 

“It was a Malfoy spell,” Draco cut in. Not wishing to be the subject of further scrutiny, suspicion, or pity – whatever it was that was in McGonagall’s eyes when she had glanced at him. 

“Oh…” Hermione said softly. It was quiet for a few seconds and then she finished with “well that’s good.”

“Ha, what?” Draco said sharply, earning himself a glare from McGonagall, though Dumbledore appeared too entranced by the light coming in the window to pay attention to the conversation. 

Hermione didn’t seem to mind his tone however and looked him right in his eyes, smiling “Because that means you were able to save me.”

Draco laughed again, remembering their conversations about her trying to save him, and McGonagall narrowed her eyes further, but apparently decided to ignore the conversation to continue the previous one. 

“This particular curse was intended relieve you of your mental faculties. It seems it was cast quite specifically for you.”

Hermione’s smile froze as she turned to look at her professor “Am I ok? Did it have any lasting effects? Oh, I wish I would have taken my exams already!”

“Please calm down Ms. Granger.” McGonagall held up her hands in a warding gesture because Hermione seemed on the verge of jumping out of the bed. “You may experience limited memory loss. Nothing substantial, and it will come back to you in time. You were very lucky.”

Hermione visibly relaxed back into the bed. 

“If it were not for our young Mr. Malfoy here, I fear you would not have even retained your ability to speak.” Dumbledore said this as though commenting on the weather, while he still stared out the window. “You and both of your friends owe him quite a bit for the information he was able to provide to us.”

Draco only stared – it seemed a rather charitable way to address the help Draco had given, which was only necessary because of his foolishness in the first place, and he couldn’t help the little huff of disbelief that escaped his mouth at Dumbledore’s words.

Finally looking away from the window Dumbledore focused his eyes squarely on Draco. 

“Foolishness is not unexpected when dealing with emotions as powerful as love. It is how we choose to fix our mistakes that make the difference.”

Draco stared for a moment before voicing the question he knew Dumbledore was urging him to, loathing himself for giving into the temptation. “My mother?”

“Free of curse or spell” Dumbledore spoke softly, but the words rang in Draco’s ears.

“I am not going to her.” Draco made sure to keep his voice clear and strong, keeping his eyes on the crystal blue ones in front of him, daring him to argue, to show disappointment and judgment. He didn’t expect him to understand, he didn’t expect anyone to understand this decision. But it was his. And he would not waiver for their lack of understanding. Draco was surprised when he heard the softly uttered, “why?” from Hermione. 

He looked at her, ready to scoff, argue, or otherwise ignore the question. This was no one else’s business, not even hers. But when he looked he did not see the judgment he expected, the accusation. He only saw pure curiosity. Trust Hermione. She really couldn’t handle not knowing something – anything. 

“Because, I will not beg for love, or acceptance.”

She continued to look at him – clearly puzzling out his response. 

“She is an adult. Who has made a choice. I will not grovel to her or mold myself to her choices.”

“But you love her. All that we did…?”

“Is a testament to that, yes. It does not however, change the situation.”

“You make it seem so… Simple.”

“I assure you… It is not.” 

There was silence for a few moments as Hermione stared at him, thinking. Draco wanted very much to look away from her scrutiny, show a defiant face to the professors, even if it would only be a shallow attempt at saving face. But he couldn’t look away, not until she responded. 

“Okay.” Hermione nodded to herself before continuing, “Okay. I understand. Or well, I don’t understand, but I see how you do, I think.”

They stared a moment longer, both trying to feel the other out, find hidden emotion behind carefully controlled expressions.

“Cockroach Cluster?” 

McGonagall, apparently completely absorbed by his and Hermione’s interaction, jumped slightly at Dumbledore’s question, and Draco had to smother a smirk before finally looking away from Hermione.


	47. Chapter 47

Draco, for his part, threw himself into his schoolwork in a way he had not done since first year. The time between the disastrous rescue attempt and the end of term exams passed in a blur. 

Maybe because he spent so much time trying not to think. 

Dumbledore had told him when they had released his mother, and she had gone back to their manor of her own free will. He had received no correspondence since. As though he really had never existed to her. Though he was sure he would not be so lucky when it came to the Dark Lord and his followers, his father. 

It was only that threat hanging over his head that could have made him accept Dumbledore’s continued invitation to live at the Black residence. 

A few weeks after returning to school Dumbledore had approached Draco and - after making many promises, most magical, and submitting himself to more binding, tongue tying, and honestly spells than he could dream of remembering, he had been told of the location in London where the Order of the Phoenix was headquartered. 

Beyond that he was told to keep to himself and not cause trouble. Considering the company - the former, Draco imagined, would be rather easy. The latter not so much. 

Formalities out of the way, Draco had not seen the headmaster again. Though he was sure the old man was watching him. He was still unnerved at the uncanny way Dumbledore seemed to always know more than he should. 

The conversation with Dumbledore, however, had been a breeze considering the one he knew he would have to have with his Syltherins. And, as much as Draco wanted to put it off, he knew that would only make it worse. 

The night after formally agreeing to reside at the Black residence, Draco gathered them all in the common room, effectively shooing everyone else out with just a glance. 

He looked over them all. His Slytherins. His army. His not quite peers. His responsibility. How would they take this? Draco had avoided them very effectivley the last few weeks, and they all seemed curious to hear what he had to say. 

There may have been rumors going around from those whose parents were Death Eaters – he had not made any attempt to find out. 

Pansy sat on her favorite chair, legs cross, expression politely puzzled – exactly as Draco imagined she thought she should appear. Goyle and Crabbe merely looked slightly bored, and Nott was refusing to meet his eyes. Bulstrode, Greengrass, Anyone who was anyone, anyone who had parents that worked with the Dark Lord, sat in front of him, waiting for what he had to say. 

“What I am going to tell you tonight will likely surprise you. So up front, let me reassure you – this is not a joke. I am not addled. Nor am I being impulsive – as though anyone could expect that from me.” A few smiled at this statement, most just looked intrigued. 

“First, some of you may not know why you are here, but I am sure you all can guess what everyone in this room has in common.” A few, Pansy included, sat straighter, proud at the obvious death eater connection. “Even those of you not directly tied to myself or my family will likely be made aware of events soon enough. I prefer to get the first say.

“I, Draco Malfoy, renounce the Dark Lord, his methods, and much of his ideals.” Only silence followed this pronouncement, as though the Slytherins were waiting for something else. But Draco let it stand, chin up, staring at them all in turn. 

“You’re insane…” Blaise Zambini was the first to speak “You really mean to turn your back on your Him? Your family? On us? After everything?”

Not sure if he should be touched by the surprising sentiment from the boy, Draco spoke again. “I turn my back on nothing but flawed politics, mindless devotion, and a number of illogical beliefs.” 

Nott snorted inelegantly and Draco continued

“You are of course correct. Many connections will be, have already been, severed. However – I will not be the one to sever the ties. Certainly not with any of you.”

“You’re dead. And so are any of us who don’t, how did you put it, ‘sever ties’”? Nott’s statement was harsh – but Draco knew it was correct. Draco affected nonchalance as he began to walk slowly in front of his audience. 

“Certainly, there are many who now wish me dead – I do however have protection. This is not something to take lightly but know, the protection is substantial – and available to any who wish to have it.” (he hoped). Pausing, Draco looked around once more “I will say no more here. As Nott has pointed out – continued contact with me is dangerous. If you would like more information feel free to ask in a more… private setting.”

He stopped speaking, but no one made a move to get up. 

“You are no longer under my thumb. You may do as you wish, all of you.” he added as he made eye contact with Crabbe and Goyle. “Until your parents find another name for you to follow at least.”

Draco had been surprise the next day to receive a surreptitious letter requesting to talk from both Pansy and Zambini. Poor Crabbe and Goyle had just seemed terribly confused about what to do with themselves before Draco sent them off to Nott, knowing that they would be safer that way. 

As for Pansy and Zambini – they seemed interested in what he had to say as he explained why he could no longer follow the Dark Lord’s path. But, he had not heard from them since. And, now that the term was close ending he knew they would no longer be able to reach him, as he was going into hiding. 

Draco was not surprised. A single conversation from Hermione would not have convinced him either. Only time, and knowledge had opened his eyes. 

 

\---

The end of term came quickly for Hermione and she was pleased to find her memory only slightly affected, and not at all in any important way. Ok, so maybe she forgot Lavender’s name once or twice, and Ron had been mortally offended when she had asked him what the Chudley Cannons were, but all her school knowledge had remained in place. Which was really all that mattered. 

With her frantic studying for exams, the spring semester passed in a snap, as it always seemed to. The only difference this time was an additional study partner – Draco. He seemed less inclined than ever to spend time with his Slytherin peers. When she asked, he would only say it was for their own protection. 

Harry and Ron had complained about Draco’s company at first. About Draco himself, about not being able to study in the common room, about anything they could think of. 

But, as the group had learned before, there were some things you just couldn’t go through without becoming closer to a person – and at the top of that list was being stuck in a dungeon, tortured, and almost dying together – apparently. 

Though Hermione wouldn’t call them friends, Harry and Ron had stopped complaining quite so much. Especially once they realized the benefits of having another study partner who actually knew what they were doing. 

For Hermione, having Draco around all the time was a both a blessing and a curse. A blessing for well, obvious reasons. A curse because she had never been quite so distracted from her schoolwork. 

But exams had come and gone, as had the end of term feast, and they were set to go home the next morning. Unfortunately, Draco would not be taking the train with them – Dumbledore would be escorting him straight to the dreary House of Black. 

“But the Order will be there. And Ron and Harry. I’ll be there soon too...” Hermione tried not too worry about Draco, but the idea of him stuck in that musty old house made her shiver with sympathy. 

“Hermione, stop.”

It took a great amount of effort, but she held her tongue from uttering further empty reassurances, and looked around. They were in their potions room of course. Where else. 

“What a strange year.” Hermione said eventually, eyes landing on the familiar abandoned desks, tables, and chalk board.

“Ha, yes, quite.” Draco raised an eyebrow, mocking her understatement, but she didn’t rise to the taunt. 

“You never did tell me – what was with the furniture book?” Hermione was almost embarrassed about how much this had been bothering her, but she hadn’t found a time to ask before now. 

Draco laughed for real this time. “Oh, just trying to find a way for the Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts, kill Dumbledore, and instate – presumably Snape – in his place.”

“… With furniture?”

“Correct.” 

Hermione could only sigh. Maybe some things, she surprised herself for thinking, were better not to look into too deeply. 

She never could have imagined things playing out the way they had this past year. 

As she watched Draco’s long slim fingers twirl his wand she was also quite sure she didn’t really mind. 

They had not spent any time alone together since they had spent the night in the hospital wing. There were plenty of reasons, but if Hermione was completely honest she would have to admit it was at least partly on purpose. 

It was easy to laugh and joke and discuss school work. Light flirting, a touch of the hand. It was simple. 

But if they talked about things – about them... 

And, well, she had been perfectly happy with their shallow interactions for a time. At least in their self-imposed limbo she was not forced to make any decisions, or deal with the consequences of Draco’s. 

But, as they looked at each other, she knew that was about to end. Hermione looked away first.

“Has our dear Ms. Granger finally run out of things to say?” Hermione glanced back up eyes narrowed, but Draco only smirked.

“No, Malfoy, I am simply thinking.”

“I think you might be thinking too much.” Draco took a step forward, smirk only widening.

“I feel you are missing the point here Malfoy.”

Draco was now standing much closer and they were nearer than they had been in quite some time. His grey eyes were stormy when they locked on hers, still fingering his wand slowly in one hand, and she took an involuntary breath. 

“And what, exactly, is that?”

Hermione opened her mouth to answer before she realized she couldn’t actually remember. What had she been saying? Draco was breathing slowly, lips slightly parted, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he moved even closer.

“Um… We need to discuss…” was all she was able to manage. The warmth of his breath now tickling against her ear as he leaned in slowly. 

“Hermione” Her name on his lips sounded different now. Maybe because he was so close, maybe because she was so full of him right now, his smell, his hand, lightly touching her side, his hair, brushing against her, and his breath – she could feel his inhale though his chest, and his exhale on her skin. “Hermione, Hermione, Hermione.” Draco murmured against her. “You have no idea the power you have, do you? You really think there is anything to discuss? Like I have a choice in the matter?”

Draco’s voice was soft and deep. Almost like he was purring. She had never heard him speak like this before and she tried to keep her head, really she did, but Hermione couldn’t help the small squeak in her voice as she responded “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.” 

She could feel his smile “You know exactly what I mean” the whisper more than the words sent a chill rushing down her body

Now it was Hermione’s turn to smirk as she leaned into Draco’s touch, embracing his closeness, their mutual vulnerability “I think you like it.”

“And what if I do?” 

Hermione couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she recalled being in a very similar position, in the same room, what felt like a life time ago. 

But this time, she knew Draco would not jump back, allowing her to ‘win’ the game they were playing. She leaned back minutely, looked Draco in the eye fiercely, trying to communicate all she wanted to find words for, and she was pleased to see his silver grey eyes mirror hers before she pushed forward, turning her head to capture his lips against hers.


	48. Epilogue

“You are a complete arse, Malfoy!” Hermione’s hands were clenched at her sides as she yelled at the smug man across from her.

“I only mean to point out Granger, that you might not, in fact, know everything.” Draco said in an infuriatingly calm voice, completely unaffected by her anger. He barely even glanced up from the paper he was reading. 

“I know that I put the letter here, and I also know that you moved it.” Hermione almost growled as she saw Draco try to restrain a laugh. 

Draco, for his part, thought he was putting up a rather good front. 

He had discovered, quite to his amazement, that despite the orderliness of Hermione’s mind and schedule, her living space was quite a different story. They had moved into an apartment together almost six months ago now, and he still had not tired of teasing her about it. 

It was quite possibly the only way he was able to handle it – being immaculately tidy himself. And Hermione never failed to become very defensive whenever anything might point to her being messy. Draco had always considered himself very capable of reading others, and after the years of being together, months of living together, Hermione was still his favorite subject to study. 

Right now, for example, she was very very near being well and truly angry – but not quite. They were dancing the line between joking and a row (maybe him a little more than her). But, thankfully Draco also considered himself a rather intelligent person. And a row with Hermione Granger was not something anyone in their right mind would want. 

“Okay, okay, I surrender. You well and truly do know everything.” Hermione narrowed her eyes at the blatant flattery, but allowed him to continue. “I was looking at it when you came out of the room, it wasn’t until you were five minutes into looking for it that I even put it behind my back.” He pulled the letter in question from his waistband where it had been hidden with a flourish before handing it over. 

Hermione huffed, taking it from him, but said nothing more. She unfolded the paper, reading it closely for what had to be the twentieth time since it had arrived last night. Draco came up behind the witch, snaking his hands around her sides and resting his head on her shoulder. 

“That is an enormous amount of books.”

“A fair few I guess.”

“A fair few? Hermione, that is for one school year, and there are at least twenty different texts on there.”

“A few are optional”

“Ha, I doubt you will consider them as such.”

“Yes, because you were so good at moderation when it came to your advanced potions exams.”

Draco affected affront, pulling away and turning Hermione to face him. “Yes, Hermione. But potions are interesting. And useful. That - ” he indicated the book list in her hand “Is a load of waffle – if you excuse the very Weasley language.”

“Draco, this is politics and law, and with these I can help change the magical world!” 

Draco couldn’t help but smile. When Hermione got passionate about something, there really was no stopping her. It was one of the many things he loved about her. Enough to help him put up with her mess even. 

He had no doubt that once Hermione completed her legal studies and got a position in the ministry (because of course she would get one) she would start making some major waves. As for Draco, he had had enough of politics to last him a life time. 

“And woe be to anyone who stands in your way.” At this Hermione finally smiled back at him and he knew his earlier prank had been forgiven. She came close to him again, resting her nose on his. 

“And woe to be you – it appears you have lost track of time.” Hermione said sweetly, braking into laughter at the startled look on Draco’s face. 

“Bullocks! Why didn’t you say anything!” Draco yelled as he rushed back into their bedroom to change into clothes more presentable than the ratty pajamas he was currently wearing. 

“I’m so sorry Draco, I just was so distressed by the missing book list…” Hermione heard him grumble in response from the other room and her grin widened. They were getting breakfast with some friends – Harry and Ginny, Blaise Zambini, Ron and Hannah might show up and, if it were a truly special day possibly even Pansy – and then doing the last minute shopping before her semester started. They all got together every month, and Pansy made it maybe one out of every four times – but she always came with exceptional gossip that kept everyone entertained for hours, so she was forgiven her spottiness. 

Hermione loved to chance to see her friends. Since leaving school it had become increasingly difficult to see them. Though to be honest she usually saw them at least once or twice between their breakfasts, even if it was just for a coffee and chat. 

With Harry and Ron it was more often of course. After their year searching for horcruxes, attempting to follow Dumbledore’s scattered instructions as their headmaster had done all in his power to keep Voldemort at bay while they worked, the three of them had never been closer. Finishing their seventh year together had given them a brief respite to relax and ‘actually bloody live life instead of fight for it’ as Ron put it. 

Draco had spent the year stuck in the House of Black, as agreed, but had made himself useful brewing healing and pain potions to, as he put it “maintain his skill – not help the bloody Order”. But help it had, and when Voldemort had finally been defeated Draco had been allowed to return for their seventh year with any of the other students that had wanted to. 

But graduation had come and gone, and now Hermione was forced to see her friends only when their auror schedules allowed. And soon they would have to accommodate her new school schedule as well. So she was really looking forward to their breakfast today – at last hurrah if you will. Though she was sure it would be far from their last time seeing each other, it seemed like it was a turning point. 

Hermione was already ready to go – it took her considerably less time than Draco, and she looked idly around their new flat. It was small, but well appointed, and Hermione was incredibly pleased with it. She glanced at the table – where her booklist should have been – and her eyes were drawn to exactly what she was trying to not look at. 

Draco had received it almost a week ago now, but had silently handed it to Hermione to read only yesterday. She burned with emotion just looking at it, and she had no idea how Draco was feeling, but she couldn’t imagine it was much better. 

He had not heard from his mother or father since their fateful rescue attempt. Until this letter. Draco’s father was in Azkaban, but his mother had gotten away with just a house arrest due to her passive role. 

“My Son,” the letter started, and Hermione had almost stopped there, the anger making her hands shake when she had read it. But she was glad she had continued,

“My son, 

I will offer no excuses and no shallow platitudes. The war is over now and I will not pretend as though the timing of this letter is coincidental. I still hold true to the beliefs of the Dark Lord, and have no regrets for my actions. I do however, have one regret. And that is our last interaction. You are, and always will be my son. 

Our choices have led us to different places. But, it is my hope that you are happy – despite the way of life you have chosen. I am not foolish enough to believe that the differences and time between us can be easily overcome. But if you wish to try, you know where I am. 

Love,   
Your mother”

Draco had not yet responded. Hermione did not know if he would. But, at the least, she felt, this would give him some measure of closure over the matter – however he decided to handle it. 

Before Hermione could brood too much longer she heard a sharp knock on their door. 

“Harry, Ron!” She gave them both a hug as she ushered them through the doorway. “You are ten minutes late – so right when I expected you. Draco’s almost ready, it will just be a moment.”

Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry said – loudly enough that Draco could hear in the next room “Of course Draco is still getting ready. He has to spell each individual hair on his head into place before he even leaves the house.”

“Hey now,” Draco walked out of their bedroom, now dressed appropriately and indeed, without a single hair out of place. “Perfection takes time.”

“Only for some of us Malfoy” Ron winked as Draco shook his head. 

“Come on you three, we’re already late enough.” Hermione quickly shooed them through the doorway. The restaurant was only a block away, so they almost always walked instead of apparating. 

“Please remind me Hermione, why does the witless duo insist on stopping here instead of just meeting us at the restaurant?” Draco’s exasperated tone was mostly joking, he had long ago learned to appreciate Hermione’s friends, but he couldn’t let them think that. 

“Otherwise you would never finish trying to fix your hair.” Harry said at the same time Ron said “Because we just love to annoy you.”

Hermione just laughed, putting her arm around Draco and pulling him close. When Draco was not around Hermione often encouraged Harry and Ron to meet them at the apartment. Largely for both of those reasons. But mostly because this – the four of them, together, having fun, on their way to meet even more people they cared about – well, there wasn’t much that was better than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is it! I can't believe this is done, and it is perfect that it is done so close to the one year mark of when I started. I may write more - the two years between the story and the epilogue, something after. I don't know. But it feels great to have completed this. Thank you everyone who read/commented/followed/favorited, it certainly gave me the motivation to keep going. And who knows - maybe one day I will even get the motivation to edit all of the typos :)


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